


The Healing of a Broken Heart

by Majesty_Clark



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, Into The Spardaverse Week, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27409417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majesty_Clark/pseuds/Majesty_Clark
Summary: Back from Hell and still depressed, Dante comes across a younger version of his brother.Alternatively: Do you wish kid Vergil had been loved and protected? Then I have good news for you.
Relationships: Dante & Lady & Trish (Devil May Cry), Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Lady & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Trish & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 99





	1. Lost to Time

**Author's Note:**

> This fic follows the DMC5 timeline for the games which is: 3 > 1 > 2 > 4 > 5\. The end of DMC2 is where this fic starts. I wrote this for the 2021 Spardaverse week in February, and since I know I will be busy during that time I wanted to post some of it now. I believe I will be posting the second chapter before the end of the year as well. The whole fic is already written out and the rest of it will be posted during the actual week it was written for.

An ear-piercing screech sounded from a wounded demon as it ran on all fours towards its red assailant. The man met it half way, his sword silencing the demons cries to wet gurgles. The corpse collapsed at the demon hunter’s feet. His expression did not change.

  


Dante surveyed the rest of the field around him. Demon corpses were strung about everywhere. These demons weren’t hard to kill, but a group of them were a pain in the ass. The guts and blood staining the ground made the place look much more similar to the place he’d just left. Add a bit more fleshy vegetation, no sun, and they’d be in the Underworld. Exhaustion pulled at the back of his mind despite his body feeling totally energized. 

  


He really wanted a nap. 

  


Cleaning off his weapons he stepped away from the dead demons. This wasn’t a job he wanted to do, but as soon as he was back at the DevilMayCry he had another job called in password and all. He had considered not going, but then he’d have to call Lady and Trish to tell them he was back. 

  


So he headed out to the job site. 

  


It was a pretty standard job. There were too many demons in one area and he needed to get rid of them. It was on the border of Red Grave City where nature met the edges of the city itself. 

  


The field itself was clear, but now he’d have to check the forest. Make sure none of them were hiding away. Dante stood at the edge of the forest. The weight of the task before him grew more oppressive and he felt what little mental energy he had slipping away from him. He _really_ wanted that nap. 

  


Fuck it. 

  


Dante activated his Devil Trigger and felt his senses heighten. He was going to do a quick look with his demon senses or whatever and then he was going home. 

  


Looking out in the forest, there was one demon he’d missed. 

  


He grabbed rebellion from his back and ran towards where he sensed it. Weaving between trees, he landed in front of the demon, sword ready. 

  


Dante froze. His Devil Trigger deactivated. 

  


There was no demon waiting to tear him apart here. Instead, there was a small boy with white hair lying face down on the ground. He clutched the sheath of a katana in his left hand. 

  


Automatically putting the sword away, Dante slowly walked forward. He knelt down near the boy. He reached out a hand, stopped halfway, and then reached for the boys’ neck. Even through his gloves Dante felt the strong thumping of a pulse. A little bit of the knot of tension that had risen inside him came undone. He drew back his hand and peered over at the katana. Yup, it was yamato. 

  


A loud sigh left him. 

  


Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. His devil instincts told him that this was his brother Vergil, but his human instincts told him he killed his brother years ago. 

  


He rubbed his face and looked back down at the boy. He hadn’t moved. 

  


Shit. 

  


Dante reached down and stood up with the boy in his arms. He retraced his steps back to the field he’d came from.  
  
_____________________________  


  


“I’m going to kick your ass.” 

  


“It’s lovely to hear you too Lady.” 

  


Feet kicked up on the desk, he waited for what was going to be a verbal onslaught. “I’ve been well thanks for asking. Got back from the Underworld. It’s beautiful this time of year and I couldn’t help myself to a little vacation. Next time I’ll invite you girls with me.” Maybe if he sounded happier than he actually felt Lady would buy it. 

  


But Lady had known him too long and knew when he was talking out of his ass. 

  


A sigh over the receiver, “You can’t just disappear like that Dante. We get worried.” 

  


Dante felt a pinprick of guilt in his chest. 

  


“Yeah,” the guilt got a little heavier, “yeah. I know.” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook it out. “Listen, I’ll,” he made some gesture in the air, “do better. In the future.” 

  


“You better. Leave a note or _something_. Don’t make me worry like that again or else you’re not going to live long enough to regret it.” There was a bite to those words that Dante took seriously. He didn’t doubt that one day he was either going to die by the hands of a very powerful demon or Lady. Whichever came first. 

  


They chatted for a bit. Catching up on what had happened in the others absence. Trish added some comments that he couldn’t quite hear over the phone, but Lady repeated them to him when she thought they were relevant. Halfway through and he could already hear the smile in his voice. He’d missed them more than he thought. He glanced down at his desk. Mom’s picture sat there as always. A boy with white hair a sword flashed through his mind. Midway through some nonsensical topic he had insisted on pursuing at Lady’s exasperation (but she went along with it), he stopped talking. The kid was still laying in the spare room he had down the hallway on the first floor. He hadn’t woken up at all on their way over here, but he couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. 

  


Dante dropped his legs from the desk and leaned forward a bit. 

  


“Lady. Can I talk to Trish?” 

  


“Uh, yeah. Sure, hold on.” She definitely felt that tonal shift. 

  


A little scuffling and words exchanged that he couldn’t quite hear. Then came a hello from Trish on the other side of the receiver. 

  


Dante had no way of delivering the news about Vergil without it sounding crazy, so he just went for it. 

  


“My brother is alive.” The words didn’t feel real. Like he was almost lying to himself. There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. A no-nonsense voice came through, “That’s not possible.” 

  


Dante glanced down the hallway behind him, the phone still held up to his ear. He knew it wasn’t possible. Trish had told him what Angelo’s were and how they worked. They derived their power from the King of the Underworld. They lived only to serve their King. Quite literally. Get rid of the power source, and the Angelo’s die. Dante turned back to the desk. 

  


“Hear me out: this is definitely Vergil, but also,” another gesture with his free hand, “he’s not? Like it’s not the same energy as when we were younger and it’s not the same as,” he felt a small lump in his throat, “when you knew him.” 

  


Another pause from the other side of the phone, but only for a moment. 

  


“You’re sure?” 

  


“Definitely.” 

  


Trish hummed. 

  


“Where is he now?” 

  


Dante pushed against the desk with his foot so his chair was balancing on its back two legs. 

  


“He’s with me at the shop. Poor kid’s been passed out the entire time.” 

  


“Can I come over? I want to check for myself.” 

  


He leaned over and straightened Mom’s picture. 

  


“Yeah, sure. We’re going to have to get him some new clothes though. I don’t have anything he can wear and his clothes are trashed.” 

  


Trish, not close to the phone anymore, said something to Lady. Lady responded with something he couldn’t quite make out, but he could tell she was mildly annoyed. A crackle over the phone and, “We’ll be over in an hour.” 

  


“I’ll be seeing you ladies then.” 

  


A satisfying clink rung out as he hung up the phone. The silence in the room echoed back at him. 

  


Setting his feet on the ground, Dante pushed himself out of his chair. Walking down the hallway as lightly as he could to the spare room. The door was cracked only a little bit. He grabbed the door frame in one hand and pushed it open, being sure he didn’t let it hit the wall. On the bed he’d put him on, Vergil hadn’t moved. 

  


Once near the bed he reached out for the wrist nearest to him. Yup, still had a pulse. 

  


The old chair he’d dragged into the room earlier creaked as he settled down into it next to the bed. Time to wait until Lady and Trish got here or Vergil woke up. Dante leaned on his right hand that was propped up on his knee. His chest felt empty and full at the same time. It didn’t feel real that his brother could be alive, but add in the fact that this Vergil was at the most ten or eleven years old and his brain wasn’t doing well with reconciling the two pieces of information. Maybe this was all some fever dream. 

  


Dante’s eyes landed on the sword still clutched in Vergil’s hand. He hadn’t loosened his grip on it at all. His mind flashed to Vergil waking up and immediately trying to fight him. Dante grimaced at the thought. Leaning over again, he carefully tore the yamato out of Vergil’s grip. 

  


Once free and only in his hands, Dante felt a chill go up his spine. A sense of wrongness. Like he shouldn’t be holding the sword. Looking down at the yamato there was nothing different about it that he could remember. The feeling of wrongness dwindled to a smaller presence at the back of his head. It disappeared altogether when he settled the sword against the wall near the door.  


  


Dante thought it was weird that the yamato would have such a strong reaction to him after all these years, but he let it go. It was never his sword anyway.  


  


Settled back in his seat, he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hey Dante, do you want to see your brother  
> Dante: yeah that’d be great  
> Me: Cool. *Drops off a freshly traumatized Vergil*  
> Dante: wait  
> Me: Good luck  
> Dante: WAIT
> 
> Dante wouldn’t know this but Vergil is actually 9 and a half years old here. He’ll figure it out eventually, but just so y’all know. This means that this young Vergil has been out on his own for about a year and a half since the fire. 
> 
> I can be found on Twitter under the same username. Feel free to ask any questions or theorize in the comments. I live for both.


	2. Little By Little, My Trust Grew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw panic attack  
> Tw dissociation  
>   
> The panic attack is in the first part of this chapter and it doesn’t become a full-blown panic attack, but I wanted to give some warning.  
>   
> The dissociation happens in the third part. I wanted to give a warning for the last part of this chapter, but I’m not sure if dissociation is the proper way to tag it. Basically, Dante is in his childhood home and getting a lot of memories and feelings that he’d rather not remember/deal with. It’s not a flashback, but it’s something close to it. I’m open to anyone in the comments telling me what else it could be tagged as and I’ll edit it in as a warning.  
>   
> ALSO if you didn’t notice I did change the rating of the series up to Teen because I thought it was more appropriate. That’s all for announcements. Enjoy.

The following week went about as disastrously as Dante expected. Vergil barely left the spare bedroom and wouldn’t say a word to Dante. He mostly glared at him any time he tried to initiate a conversation, which would have been cute if his mind would stop brining up an older, uncorrupted Vergil giving him that same glare. It made his stomach twist in discomfort, but he never dropped his smile.

  


His personal feelings weren’t important right now. 

  


It was only Vergil and him at the shop. He hadn’t taken any jobs this week and had pushed any that came his way to Lady and Trish. They’d agreed to pick up his jobs on the condition that he give them updates on what was happening with Vergil. 

  


For the most part, nothing really happened. Unless you counted Vergil deciding to sit in the main part of the shop with him as riveting news. 

  


Now it was the end of that week. Dante was sick of sitting inside and he could bet that Vergil felt the same. After a few calls, Dante had a job. Nothing outrageous like he wanted to do, but interesting enough that he could get it done. A little lady needed a box delivered to her sister. It was mundane and easy, but most importantly he could bring Vergil with him. He didn’t trust leaving him here. 

  


The box was already at the shop. Moments ago, he’d spoken with the sister at the door and he’d assured her that he’d be careful with it. She had been very serious when it came to that part. It was odd, but not unusual. Dante had met his fair share of weird people and he learned to just roll with it. 

  


Looking around the main lobby of the shop, he didn’t see any one else. Vergil was in his room then. The old wood floor creaked as he walked down the hallway into the back. Using the back of his knuckles, Dante knocked two times on the door and then spoke. 

  


“Meet me out in the front. I have something for you.” 

  


Not waiting for a response, Dante walked back to the main room. He grabbed a magazine and sat himself on the front of his desk. Not soon after he heard the door down the hall open. He didn’t hear footsteps, but he wasn’t surprised. Vergil was unnervingly silent with his movement. He kept his eyes on the magazine, even flipping a page when he felt like it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vergil appear in front of him. Dante closed the magazine, tossed it on the desk, and set his eyes on him. He wore the new clothes Lady and Trish had brought and, as usual, he had the yamato in his left hand. Dante leaned forward. 

  


“So you and I have a job. Nothing special, but” he pointed at the sword, “we’re not bringing any weapons.” 

  


Vergil’s grip on the yamato visibly tightened. So he wasn’t going to give this up easily then. Well lucky for Dante he knew how to work the room. He hopped down from the desk. Vergil moved the blade slightly behind him. 

  


“Just leave it here in the shop. Trust me there is no safer place for that sword to be.” Vergil glared a little harder at him. His gut twisted, but he plastered on an easy smile. “No demons are dumb enough to ambush this place. You know why?” Dante flickered between his Devil Trigger and reverted to his human form quickly. “I’m the strongest around here and any demon that’s smart enough knows what will happen to them if they come after me.” 

  


Dante moved back towards his desk chair and grabbed his coat off the back of it. Slipping it on, he looked back at Vergil who didn’t look nearly as defensive as before, but still unsure. He just needed a little more push then. Dante walked past Vergil and stopped at the front door. He didn’t turn around. 

  


“Go ahead and find someplace in the shop you want to put it. I won’t look and you’ll be the only one who knows where it is.” He lifted a hand to emphasize his point, “Just make sure you remember where you put it.” 

  


Ten minutes later and they were outside the shop. No weapons between either of them. Just the box on Dante’s left shoulder accompanied them. Once the door closed behind them Dante paused. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his keys to the shop. The door locked with a heavy clunk. Vergil on his right, they descended the small steps that led to the entrance of the DevilMayCry. 

  


Thinking of what route they would take to their objective was overshadowed by another thought hitting him like a ton of bricks. Dante’s right hand shot out in front of Vergil. Vergil took a step back from the sudden movement and looked up at him. Dante twisted his right hand to be palm up and said, “I get lost pretty easily, so let’s make sure we don’t lose each other.” 

  


Vergil stared at the offered hand. 

  


A second passed. 

  


A joke on the tip of his tongue to goad him into it, Vergil grabbed his hand without further prompt. Another big smile on Dante’s face and they started their route. 

  


The walk led them out of the district that housed his shop with no one passing them on the sidewalk. The next district being mostly residential, there were many more people out in the open. It was a pleasant day. Some kids were playing in the street. The locals paying no mind to the man in red and the occasional one saying hello. As they kept walking further into the district he felt his right hand gripped tighter with each step. Looking down at him, Dante didn’t see any different expression on Vergil’s face. He squeezed his hand back. Vergil looked up and Dante gave him a half grin. The pressure on his hand eased a little. 

  


They kept walking. 

  


People were still milling about and going on with their business. Dante said hello back to those who called out to him. Vergil’s hand started tightening around his again. 

  


A couple doors down from their destination, Dante felt claws digging into his skin. They stopped walking. Dante crouched down and put the box on the ground. He then turned towards Vergil. His expression was neutral, but he was visibly sweating even though it wasn’t a particularity hot day. The grip on his hand hadn’t lessened. Dante reached out and grabbed his other hand. It was just like the other one. Hard scales covered Vergil’s hands and curved his fingers into claws. Dante knew what the tight feeling in his chest felt like and how frightening it could be. Hopefully he could make this better before it became a full-blown panic attack. He still didn’t know how to exactly handle his own when they came on, but he had to try something. 

  


“Hey, we’re almost done here. You see that door,” Dante pointed over at the one a couple of feet away from them, “That’s where we’re going and then we’re heading straight back to the shop.” The grip on his hands became tighter. A smile painted on, “You’re doing a great job. Do you think you can handle it a little longer?” 

  


Dante didn’t know exactly what he was referring to handling, but Vergil apparently did. A half-second later and he gave a nod. “Alright, then let’s get this show on the road.” He didn’t wrench his hands out of his grip. They stayed there with the noise of people in the background. Slowly, Vergil’s hands lost their razor sharp armor. He let go of Dante’s left hand once they were completely reverted back. He mentally sighed in relief. Some of the tension within his chest lifted. Grabbing the box again and hefting it on his left shoulder he stood up. Peering down at Vergil, “You ready to go?” He gave an immediate nod. 

  


At a much slower pace than before they made it to their destination. A squeeze to Vergil’s hand and he let go of it. He raised his now free hand to the door and knocked. He felt something grab onto the right side of his jacket, but didn’t bother to look. It had to be Vergil. Another knock on the door. A faint reply was the answer and some light scuffling could be heard before the door was opened. A small woman with gray streaked brown hair stood in the doorway. She looked up at him and her eyes widened in surprise. Raising a hand to her mouth she said, “Oh my!” 

  


Dante let out a big laugh at the exclamation. That was definitely going on the list of interesting interactions he’s had with humans. “Hello to you too ma’am. I have something here for you,” He nodded towards the box on his shoulder, “Your sister said you’d might want it.” 

  


Snapped out of her surprise she sprung right into business. “Oh! Yes!” She opened up her door all the way. Grabbing a shoe nearby she shoved it underneath the door for a makeshift doorstop. Getting back up, she reached up to take the box from him and he carefully handed it over to her. Most things weren’t that big of a deal for him to lift, so it was hard to tell what would be too heavy for an ordinary human. Luckily, since he’d seen the sister handle it with no problem he didn’t think she would struggle with it either. 

  


The woman took the box and planted it on the floor right in the doorway. “I’m so sorry. I just- my sister said that you would be someone from the neighborhood, so I thought I’d know you but I’ve never seen you before!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. He slightly leaned towards the box, curious on its contents. The box opened up and there were old pieces of paper, some pictures, and a lone stuffed animal. None of it held meaning to him, but one look at the brown haired woman told him that it clearly meant something to her. She picked up the stuffed animal. Her fingers carefully running over the well-worn fur. 

  


“An old friend?” 

  


The woman looked over at him and held the stuffed animal close to her chest. She had a small, radiant smile, “A very old friend.” The animal still held to her chest she rummaged through the box. Satisfied, she stood up. “One moment. I’ll be right back.” She retreated back into her home and returned a few minutes later with a huge wad of cash. She held it out to Dante. “Here. It’s your payment.” Dante didn’t take it. 

  


“Miss, I don’t have to count that to know that you’re overpaying me on what we agreed.” The steely look in the woman’s eyes didn’t falter. She held the stuffed animal still pressed to her chest and the wad of money between them. “Please take it. It’s the very least I can do.” 

  


Dante knew arguing with her was likely not going to get him anywhere. Normally he’d try to talk people out of paying him too much because people usually got a little too generous when it came to rescuing their life from demons. Which he knew they’d feel stupid and he’d feel guilty about later. 

  


He let out a heavy sigh and gave a big shrug. 

  


“You’re really twisting my arm here, but alright.” Dante took the money from the brown haired woman and stuffed said money into his pants pocket. The brown haired woman had moved the box further into the home and had removed the shoe doorstop. Leaning against the door she said, “Thank you. I truly appreciate what you’ve done for me today Mister…” She trailed off at the end. 

  


“Dante. Just Dante is fine.” 

  


The woman gave a small smile. “Thank you, Dante.” Her gaze cut to the left, “and thank you too. I’m sure you kept Dante here out of trouble.” Instead of waiting for Vergil to not respond, Dante replied, “Oh, I am a handful. If my little bro wasn’t here to keep me in line I’d be doing cartwheels in the street.” She gave a small laugh at that. Closing the door, she said, “Thank you again. Get home safely.” 

  


The door closed with a soft click. 

  


Dante felt the hand holding onto his coat let go as he turned towards Vergil. He didn’t look stressed out, but looks could be deceiving. He thought about the fastest routes they could take back to the shop, but none of them were exactly kid friendly. They’d have to go back the way they came then. Damn it. 

  


“You ready to get this show rolling?” 

  


An immediate nod. 

  


Dante held out his left hand. A few seconds passed and Vergil took it. They descended the steps and made their way back to the shop. The walk back was much easier. As soon as he opened the doors of the shop Vergil ran inside. Closing the doors behind him, Dante went to put the money away and Vergil emerged shortly after with the yamato in hand. Deciding a nap was in order he laid back in his desk chair, feet on the desk, and a magazine over his face. He heard light movement as he registered that Vergil was still in the room. His eyebrows knit together. He didn’t know if what he was doing was right, but he was making some type of progress. 

  
\--------------------------------

  


There was a demon in the house. 

  


It was lounging on the couch. 

  


It wore his mother’s face. 

  


Trish tried her best to rest on the old couch. She didn’t have to move from where she was staring at the ceiling to know that Vergil was openly glaring at her. If he had something to say then he’d have to say it. She wasn’t going to drag it out of him. 

  


Closing her eyes she tried to get her mind off of that piercing stare. Her thoughts drifted to other things besides the present. 

  


Like how Lady and Dante had practically left her no choice in who was going to stay behind. Trish had been going about her day as usual and then Lady was pushing her towards the DevilMayCry saying there was an emergency. Dante had said some gibberish about how Vergil would just stay in his room and that he needed one of them to stay behind to watch him. Lady had immediately said no. Dante had turned to her with this pleading look and Lady looked at her with dead set determination. She reluctantly agreed. Unfortunately for her, Vergil did not stay in his room. He had been glaring at her from the opening to the hallway for some time now. 

  


No matter how she tried to think about it she couldn’t split apart the idea that this small human, Vergil, was also Nelo. 

  


Trish sensed a change in the air. She opened her eyes and heard, 

  


“Why do you look like her?” 

  


Turning to the source, Vergil was now slightly out of the doorway and more in the room. The voice was a bit raspy, like it had not been used in a long time. 

  


Sitting up she said, “Look like who?” 

  


“Like Mama,” his voice wasn’t loud but the anger was clearly present in his tone. More venom dripped into his words, “You’re a demon.” 

  


Trish planted her feet on the ground so that she was fully facing him. With a wave of her hand, she said, “And you’re a human.” 

  


“I’m not human,” came the quick reply. 

  


“You could have fooled me.” 

  


The anger on Vergil’s face turned to enraged. Damn. Trish had thought that would be a good joke to lighten the mood. He still had that sword clenched in his hand and it looked like he was itching to draw it. 

  


Trish could definitely take him in a fight, but it left a bad taste in her mouth thinking about the situation escalating to that point. She had to diffuse the tension somehow. Mind racing, her eyes landed on the desk just past Vergil. The framed photo that normally rested on it was gone. 

  


Trish pushed herself off the couch and walked towards it. 

  


Vergil’s seething was palpable as she waked past him. She didn’t pay attention to him. Trish opened the left drawers, searching within them. They didn’t have it. She moved to the top right drawer. 

  


Inside was a framed photo with the back of it facing upwards. 

  


Trish grabbed it and flipped it around. 

  


There was her face. 

  


Frame in hand, she closed the drawer and walked back to Vergil. She stopped about a foot away from him. Meeting his glare with her own steady gaze. She held up the back of the frame and then turned it around so that he could see the photo. “Is this who you’re talking about?” The anger in his eyes morphed into some other emotion and he lunged towards the photo with his right arm outstretched. Trish held the photo high out of his reach. She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back so that he would look at her. 

  


“Is this her?” 

  


Vergil’s eyes flickered away from the photo to her face. The anger resurfaced, but it was a smolder of its initial inferno. His eyes went back to the photo out of reach and he withdrew his right arm. 

  


“Yes.” 

  


Nothing in the room moved. Vergil didn’t take his eyes off the photo. Those blue eyes held a whirlwind of emotions. How strange. She had seen this boy express more emotion in the past hour than the entire time she had worked together with Nelo. 

  


Vergil had been Nelo’s true name and Dante’s twin brother. There had always been small glimpses of who he had been in their interactions. Small cracks that barely hinted at a larger personality buried underneath Mundus’ control. Dante had been right when he said that the child in front of her was different. His demonic aura had little bits of what she recognized as Nelo’s, but there was no signs of Mundus’ influence. Nelo was gone. There was no way for her to know what he was like before his imprisonment. But Nelo and Vergil had been one and the same. This child… 

  


Is this who Nelo used to be? 

  


“You have a brother.” 

  


Vergil looked back at her. 

  


“You look just like him. Are you the same person?” 

  


That smoldering anger regained some of its flames. 

  


“No! I’m nothing like Dante!” 

  


Trish brought the photo back down. 

  


“And I’m nothing like your mommy.” 

  


“Because you’re a demon.” 

  


“Because I’m Trish.” 

  


Vergil stared at her for a few minutes and then said, “Are you saying you’re Mom’s twin?” 

  


Well she hadn’t intended to imply that, but what the hell she’d go with it. 

  


“If that’s how you want to see it, then yes.” 

  


Vergil went back to staring at the photo. It seemed he didn’t know what to say either. Trish dropped the hand that was holding the photo up and the other one that had been holding his shoulder. 

  


“Let’s try this again,” she straightened her back, “My name is Trish. I’m a demon hunter.” 

  


He glanced at her, then down to the photo, and back to her face. 

  


“My name is Vergil.” 

  


“It’s wonderful to meet you Vergil.” 

  


She moved back over to the desk. The photo was placed back in its spot on the desk’s surface. Dante had hid it when she had first started staying in the human world. He knew it didn’t bother her anymore, so he must have been doing it for another reason. Trish looked back and saw that Vergil hadn’t moved. His eyes were fixated on the photo even though it was no longer easy to see the front of it. The room was getting uncomfortable. Needing to clear her head, she decided they both needed to get out of the shop. 

  


“We’re going on a walk.” 

  


Not bothering to get a confirmation, Trish walked to the couch and grabbed the black leather jacket she’d thrown on it. Back at the door Vergil was already waiting. She looked him over, “Go get a jacket. It’s cold outside.” 

  


As if she had any concept of what humans considered cold. She only knew because Lady had been complaining about it earlier. 

  


“I don’t have one.” 

  


Trish was halfway to suggesting to grab one of Dante’s, but remembered he always wore longer coats. It would be impossible for Vergil to wear any of them. She told Vergil to wait for her and went up the stairs to Dante’s room. 

  


As she rummaged through Dante’s drawers she didn’t find anything suitable. She opened his closet and found two red coats, but neither were small enough for Vergil. One coat stood out to her the most. It was the one Dante had worn when they met. He hadn’t worn it for long after Mallet Island. 

  


She unzipped the leather jacket she had been wearing and grabbed said red jacket. One arm through the sleeve, she closed the door behind her. The red coat flourished behind her as she descended the stairs. 

  


Trish held out her leather jacket. 

  


“There wasn’t anything else, so you’ll have to make due.” 

  


Vergil put it on without any complaint, but even she could tell he wasn’t happy about it. The sleeves had to be pushed back so that he could get his hands free and zip it up. 

  


The doors closed behind them and as she started on her planned route for them, she felt a tug on her coat. She looked down at the offender. Vergil looked up with unwavering defiance. He held up his right hand, palm up. 

  


“So we don’t lose each other.” 

  


She raised an eyebrow at him. 

  


The defiance in his eyes didn’t falter. 

  


“Dante said we have to,” putting emphasis on Dante’s name. 

  


Even as a child, she could see he was used to giving out orders. The grin came to her naturally as she took the offered hand. 

  


The walk was uneventful. It took longer than usual, since she had to severally cut back on her stride to match Vergil’s. They took the same route three times and then finally went back to the shop. Lady and Dante were waiting for them. Upon seeing them, Dante exclaimed, “Where were you two?!” Immediately followed by, “Is that my coat?” 

  


“We went on a walk.” 

  


Trish looked down at Vergil, who hadn’t moved from his spot next to her. She added on to his remark, “Vergil and I were growing bored of the same four walls, so we went out.” Vergil handed her her coat back. He then made his way to the back of the shop. Dante was sitting in his desk chair and Lady was sitting on top of the desk. Trish joined Lady in her positon after throwing her jacket over on to the couch. The soft sound of a door closing further inside the shop clicked in the background. 

  


“Oh, so he does talk. Well, that’s fantastic. I knew one of you would be able to get him talking.“ Lady gave him a knowing look, “What? Couldn’t do it yourself?” Dante held up his hands in surrender, “I know my limits. If I couldn’t do it then one of my wonderful, strong ladies would come rescue me.” A core of annoyance settled in her chest at the words. 

  


“Hmm. So you planned this?” 

  


Dante pointed at Trish, “I did no such thing. There was a real emergency; I didn’t lie about that.” Dropping his hand he shrugged one shoulder, “If things happened to work out then that’s great for me. 

  


Something nudged her foot. Trish looked over to Lady. She had that soft look in her eyes, “I thought it was a little suspicious too. But turns out there was something going on. It’s why we took so long.” A mischievous glint in her mismatched eyes and she looked at Dante. “I think you’re giving him too much credit. There’s no way he could have planned all this out.” Dante gave an exaggerated gasp at that remark and the two dissolved into light bickering. 

  


Trish added her own commentary in that heightened the two’s own self-created drama. She would have said more, but her thoughts were distracting. All she could think of was Vergil and Nelo. Their interactions earlier had been nothing but hostile on his part. Her eyes refocused to the present and landed on the back of the picture frame on the desk. 

  


“He said I looked like her.” Lady and Dante stopped their bantering. She continued, “You didn’t tell him.” 

  


Trish looked to Dante for a reply. Bewilderment was his only answer. Maybe she hadn’t been clear enough. Her worry was quickly swept away when next to her Lady let out a groan and said, “Did you not warn the kid?” Dante’s confusion deepened at the remark. Lady sighed loudly and grabbed the framed picture on the desk. She brought it up near the space between Trish and her. After a few moments of flicking between the portrait and Trish did realization finally hit him. Dante ran a hand through his hair and gave a sheepish grin, “Oops?” 

  


“ _Oops?_ ” 

  


“Trish, it’s not that big of a deal.” 

  


The raw anger from Vergil earlier had been very real. Trish felt a little of her own indignation feed into her voice, “You should have said _**something**_ to him.” 

  


“I did!” Dante got up from his seat as he continued, “I told him that a friend of mine was going to look after him for a few hours and that they’d either be a human or a demon.” Dante reached out for the framed picture and Lady met him halfway. He placed it on its claimed spot of the desk. “I thought it would be good to have someone else be around him for a change.” His eyes stayed on the framed picture as he continued in a quieter voice, “I don’t like the idea of leaving him here alone and I’d be fine if it was one of you looking after him when I can’t.” 

  


He wanted their help. 

  


Any lingering irritation Trish had been feeling fizzled out and a certain softness entered her words as the only words she could think of left her, “Oh, Dante...” 

  


Lady leaned over the desk with one arm supporting her and the other outstretched to Dante. She motioned at him to come closer. Dante hesitated at the action. With some authority in her voice Lady said, “Just come here.” He leaned closer and, predictably, Lady pinched his cheek with her outstretched hand. Hard. Dante’s face scrunched up in pain. After another second, Lady let go and Dante rubbed the skin she’d previously held. 

  


Lady sat back up, “Did you really think we wouldn’t help? There’s no way you can look after him on your own.” Dante brought his hand down from his cheek, “I didn’t know you were making decisions for the both of you now.” 

  


Trish answered, “My help is a given, Dante.” 

  


Lady added on, “There’s no way you can be doing demon hunting and still make time for the kid. It makes more sense if we plan out who will be looking after him ahead of time, rather than making a split second decision.” 

  


A strong sense of warmth surged in Trish’s chest. Lady was always so reliable. Leave it to her to already have a plan for the situation. From the look on Dante’s face he felt the same. After a bit more talking, they discussed how they would do it and what jobs were available. Trish had suggested they take him on some of the shorter missions, but it was met with immediate disagreement. Both Lady and Dante said that he was too young to be fighting demons. She hardly saw how that mattered. Other demons would want him dead no matter his age. A compromise was reached in that they would take him on missions when he was a bit older. When that would be was still a mystery. For now, they settled on a rotation of every week where two would go out on missions that came in and one person would stay behind with Vergil. He would still live at the DevilMayCry and when it was Lady or Trish’s turn they would come over when Dante was out on a job. Lady insisted that for longer missions when Trish and her were scheduled to look after him that he’d come stay at their home. Trish agreed and Dante did after a moment. The scenery change would be good for him. Lady was starting the rotation first. Dante had insisted he go first, but Lady was not having it. Perhaps he’d felt bad for tricking them earlier. 

  


Trish had slipped the red coat off and put it back where she found it. She descended the stairs to find Lady wearing the jacket she had thrown on the couch previously and giving Dante a hug. They stayed like that a few moments longer after she reached the bottom floor. They broke apart and Lady turned for them to leave. Dante started to wave them off and Trish took the few steps between them to pull him into her own hug. He immediately wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t miss the way he held on to her a little tighter than usual. He sent them off with what looked like almost tears in his eyes. 

  


The walk back to their shared home was quiet. Trish’s hand was warm in Lady’s. Her thoughts were still whirling. Fiery eyes burned into her mind. Nothing about that boy made sense. If he was Dante’s brother, like Dante insisted he was, then his presence should have an indication of tampering with like her’s did. There was no way to heal the scars that Mundus’ control had inflicted. Yet Vergil’s aura was completely his own. She doubted that he would have the answers to her questions. If she wanted answers she’d have to look into this strange phenomenon herself. 

  
\--------------------------------

  


The sun was high in the sky. There was a soft breeze that blew through Dante’s hair. Before him stood an iron gate and beyond it, the remains of a house he once knew. He stood there, staring up at the house and wondering how any of it was still standing. 

  


A creak from the iron gate tore Dante’s gaze down to it. After a second he reached out and pushed the gates open. It squealed from underuse and the mistreatment of time. 

  


Each step forward, more weight added to the sinking feeling in his chest. 

  


He did not want to be here. 

  


The house grew closer and his steps did not falter. 

  


The main doors in their chipped and faded red paint greeted him like an old friend. Dante swiped the sweat off his forehead with his hand. The back of his neck felt hot. 

  


Dante closed his eyes. He was glad Vergil wasn’t with him right now. The thought sent a spike of anxiety up his spine, and he immediately tried to sooth it. 

  


He knew where Vergil was and he was safe. 

  


He wasn’t that far away from him. 

  


He was at the park where his brother and him had played at when they were kids. 

  


Demons hadn’t been reported in this part of Redgrave for years. There was no reason for them to show up now. The anxiety quieted to a low hum. He breathed out slowly through his nose. 

  


He knew where Vergil was. The thought helped quiet his racing mind. 

  


The red doors stood in front of him. Eager to greet him. 

  


Dante grabbed the handle on one of the red doors and pushed inside. The smell of ash instantly hit him. 

  


He felt a cough try to crawl its way out of his throat. He swallowed it down. 

  


The wood creaked as he stepped inside. The light from the doorway flooded the small hallway. The main room was brightly lit with sunlight coming through the windows that were still intact and the giant hole that had been punched in through the roof. Disturbed dust and ash was kicked up into the air. 

  


Silence reigned. 

  


Dante stopped just a bit before the main room. On his left was a small linen closet. He turned towards it. The closet had seen the same treatment as everything else. The white paint was faded and chipped. 

  


He reached out for the handle and stopped part way. The air around him felt too hot. Too familiar. 

  


Dante felt ridiculous. His hands were shaking. 

  


He grabbed the closet handles in both hands and opened the closet a little too quickly. Expecting to find a white haired boy, scared and unsure on what to do but hide. Hide from the demons. Hide from his past. 

  


There was nothing. 

  


Dante stared at that familiar corner of the closet. Dust covered the entire inside. The doors slowly creaked shut. He rested his hands on the faded white wood. Some of the weight had lifted from his chest. Breathing was a little easier. A few coughs escaped him. 

  


The hardest part was done. 

  


He rubbed the right side of his neck as he walked further into the main room. Another deep breath in and out. 

  


The furniture had not fared well over time, but the room itself was in good condition. Dante knew he should look further into the house. Just in case there was another white haired boy. The mirror image of the young Vergil he’d found. He knew he should look further inside, but each minute he spent in this place made his skin crawl. The air was too hot. He’d have to settle for looking around the main room. Weariness was already hitting him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything more than this room. 

  


With another breath and the weight steadily increasing in his chest again, he searched the main room. The floor creaked with his footsteps and groaned as he lifted the furniture around. 

  


The room was thoroughly searched and there was nothing. Dante threw himself onto the nearest couch with his arms splayed across the back of it. He just needed a moment. Looking up at the ceiling he noticed the light streaming in was an orange hue. How long had he been here? 

  


Dante counted in his head as he prepared himself to get up. He brought his hands on the cushions and pushed. His left hand felt some resistance from the cushions. He looked down. His hand had been on the crevice between the arm of the couch and the couch cushion. Reaching down in-between the space he pulled out a book. It looked awfully familiar. His eyes widened and he almost smacked himself for not immediately noticing why. 

  


The big golden V on the cover was a dead giveaway. 

  


It was his brother’s. It had been his brother’s. 

  


Dante turned the book over and inspected it. The book was in great condition. Opening it, the pages were a bit yellowed, but the ink was still clear. Flipping through it quickly he stopped at a few odd pages. 

  


These pages had handwritten poems on them. 

  


Dante felt himself grinning as he looked these parts over. His brother had always been secretive when it came to this book. Despite his best efforts to take it, his brother had always kept it out of his hands. The thought of his brother being pissed at him for reading them now got a few chuckles out of him. 

  


The book closed with a final thump. The golden V stared back at him. 

  


Dante looked around at the room and up at the portrait on the mantle. 

  


He looked back down at the book and tucked it inside his jacket. 

  


The floor creaked underneath his shoes as he walked back to the red door he’d entered through. Each step the weight in his chest became lighter. The burning in his lungs slowly leaving as the softer evening light met him. 

  


He closed the red door behind him. The iron gates squealed shut. 

  


Leaning against the gates, the house didn’t look any different than before. He wouldn’t be back here any time soon. A sound caught Dante’s attention. He perked up and turned towards where he’d heard it. 

  


There it was again. 

  


Someone was calling him. They were faraway and moving in his direction, but it could only be one person. 

  


The forest was a blur around him as he pushed himself forward. 

  


To get there faster. 

  


To protect his brother. 

  


He felt Vergil’s presence just beyond these trees. As he cleared the foliage, a stabbing pain blossomed in two places in his chest. His momentum thrown off, he stumbled back a little. Looking down he saw two blue swords embedded in him. 

  


Vergil had the yamato drawn and pointed at him. 

  


It was slight, but he could see the way the blade shook. 

  


Tossing on a smile and gesturing to the swords still protruding from his chest he said, “When were you going tell me you can make swords Vergil?” He leaned from side to side in apparent thought, “My party tricks have been getting stale lately, so this is perf-,”A third blue sword entered his gut. 

  


Slightly hunched over, Dante chuckled. 

  


“Now you’re just trying to show off.” 

  


Vergil was walking away. 

  


The swords disappeared from his chest as he moved forward and stopped him. 

  


“Hey, what’s up? I know you didn’t just call for me for nothing.” 

  


Vergil didn’t turn around, but he did wipe his face with his right sleeve. He answered, “I didn’t call you.” 

  


“Now I don’t believe that for a second.” Dante crouched down so he wasn’t towering over him. “Might want to try something more convincing next time.” He lightly pushed the shoulder he’d grabbed so that Vergil would turn around to face him. He was wearing a scowl, his eyes were tinged red, and his cheeks were pink. 

  


“Was there a pack of demons?” 

  


“No.” 

  


“Right, right. You wouldn’t need my help with that. Did you get hungry?” 

  


“No.” 

  


“Hmmmm. Oh, you learned a new trick that you really wanted to show me.” 

  


“No!” 

  


The last answer was a strong exclamation and cut through the humor Dante had been trying to cultivate. A tear rolled down Vergil’s cheek, and was angrily swiped away with the back of his sleeve. In a hostile and frustrated tone Vergil replied, “You were gone too long.” 

  


“I wasn’t gone that long.” 

  


“ _Yes you were,_ ” another swipe of his sleeve, “ _You were gone all day._ ” 

  


Well he couldn’t really argue with him on that. He’d expected to be at the house for maybe an hour or two. Not however long it took to make it almost nighttime. He considered trying to make light of it, but one look at the kid in front of him and he didn’t feel any humor bubble up. A small pit of guilt and worry laced its way through him. He couldn’t remember if Vergil had always cried this easily, but there were many things about his brother that he still didn’t know. Could never know. 

  


“Yeah, it took me a little longer than was planned. But now,” he pushed a grin onto his face, “I’m all done and we get to head back.” 

  


Dante stood up and put his hands on his hips. 

  


“What do you say? You ready?” 

  


Vergil was still scowling at him, but gave a nod. 

  


Throwing his hands into his pockets, Dante started off into the forest. He didn’t get far when he felt something grab his left arm and pull it out of his coat’s pocket. Looking down, he just barely caught Vergil in the act of uncurling Dante’s hand. Vergil immediately grabbed his previously empty hand with his own. 

  


Vergil glared at him to comment. 

  


A small smile came unbidden onto Dante’s face. He curled his hand around his brother’s and continued on their walk together. 

  


Back at the shop, three pizzas deep later, and ready for a nap Dante rediscovered the book hidden in his coat. Even in the dim lighting of his room the gold covering of the book shined brightly. After pondering where he would possibly put it in his mess of a room where it wouldn’t get dirty, a thought came to him. Their birthday was coming up fairly soon. He didn’t think Vergil would mind an early birthday present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter(s) will be posted in February during Spardaverse week. Please look forward to it.  
>   
> Extra bit: I hope y’all are enjoying my made up Angelo lore. It’s something I’ve put a lot of thought into on its own and I’m happy to have it reflected here.  
>   
> Yes I made Trish and Lady dating each other. It’s not a big focus and more of just a nice side note. No one can stop me. Also, before anyone gives Dante a hard time about not warning Vergil about Trish: he didn’t think about it because he’s known Trish long enough that he doesn’t equate her and his mom as being the same person. When he looks at Trish he doesn’t see his mom; he sees his friend.  
>   
> As I’ve said before, feel free to leave any questions or theories in the comments.


	3. My Nights and Terrors Melded Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw stabbing
> 
> Happens right in the beginning part of this chapter. 
> 
> A small note on a personal headcanon I have which is that Dante gets a new coat when he’s trying to start a new phase of his life/move past(forget) another part of his life. So from chapter 3 onwards it’s definitely DMC4 Dante, but I’m a little wishy washy on whether we still have 2Dante or 4Dante for this chapter. So either one is correct. 
> 
> As a side note: I’ve unlocked this work to allow comments from anyone. So if you wanted to write something on a previous, current, or future chapter you’re free to do so. 
> 
> I’m happy to get to share the rest of this story and I hope y’all feel the same.
> 
> Enjoy.

The demons had found him again. No matter how many he slaughtered they always came for him. He didn’t know whether to call them persistent or idiotic. Either way, they met the same fate on yamato.  


  


The corpses of marionettes were scattered around him. Irritation crawled through him at the site. They had not been worth his time. The moon glimmered up above as Vergil made his way through the carnage.  


  


A spark of red caught the corner of Vergil’s eye and he had the yamato drawn. The red had disappeared.  


  


He felt something here. Another demon.  


  


A spark of red in front of him and the demon was rushing towards him.  


  


It had a blade protruding from each of its arms.  


  


Teleporting to the side of it he easily cut through the demon. There was no blood. It disappeared altogether. Confusion and apprehension vied for his attention.  


  


A sound behind him.  


  


He turned.  


  


Pain spider webbed up and out of his stomach. Blood poured out in front of him. His vision had little black spots in it. The eyes of the demon flashed and more blood poured out as the blades were extracted. Anger and pain flooded him culminating into a demonic scream.  


  


Quick gasps for air filled the small bedroom.  


  


A young boy sat up in his bed. His heart was racing and his shoulders shook.  


  


Vergil sat there a moment to regain his thoughts. He wasn’t fighting any demons. He had been sleeping in his room. It was just another dream. No matter how real it felt.  


  


He pushed the bedding to the side and silently stood from his bed. The yamato was propped against the wall near the head of the bed. He quickly grabbed it and opened the night stand he had pushed out of the way when he first arrived here to have better access to the sword. The glimmering V could not be seen, but Vergil felt a small bit of tension leave him once he had both items in his hands.  


  


The floor of the wall opposite of the door was not comfortable, but it gave him a perfect view of the whole room. Nothing would sneak up on him.  


  


The yamato leaned against the wall next to him, ready to be drawn. Blue light shimmered from above. Four blue swords were interlaid on each other, blade over blade. The focused light brought the V of the book into view. With a steady breath, he opened it.  


  


His dreams had not always been so vivid. It was only a short time after staying at this shop that Vergil began to have more nightmares.  


  


The first ones he had were ones he was used to. They involved happier memories at his old home, lonelier ones of being on his own, and scarier ones of hiding from stronger demons with the yamato clutched tightly in hand. All familiar memories.  


  


It was then that his dreams got weird.  


  


He got older in those dreams.  


  


He visited places and fought demons he’d never seen before.  


  


Since staying at this place for a little more than a year, the Vergil in his dreams kept getting older and stronger. Though there was one aspect that never changed in them.  


  


He was always alone.  


  


The dream he’d just had was different from the other ones.  


  


He’d never-  


  


He’d never been that brutally injured.  


  


Vergil brought his knees closer to his chest. An ache had begun in his stomach where he knew the blades had once been.  


  


If he went back to sleep now, there was a possibility the dream would start at the point from when he’d woken up or it could skip further in time to something else. There was no way to gauge which it would be.  


  


The book closed with a soft thump. Vergil held it in his hands for a moment. The blue swords dissipated. Reading William Blake usually helped. He rubbed his thumb over the cover where he held it. His cheeks warmed as he recalled receiving the book.  


  


Dante had given it to him as an early birthday present, or so he said. He wasn’t sure if Dante had known his real birthday had been really close or if he had been joking. In his excitement at seeing the gold book again he’d completely forgotten himself and grabbed it from him. Luckily, Dante only commented that he was happy that he liked it.  


  


The pages were a little yellowed, but that hardly mattered to him. Looking over the poems and rediscovering the ones he had written himself was shocking. He had completely forgotten about them. An incessant thought pulled at the back of his mind from that day onward. He wanted to create new poems to add to the books’ margins. It was exciting and terrifying. He hadn’t added any of the ones he’d written yet. To think this book had easily reignited a part of himself he thought died long ago.  


  


It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d missed.  


  


Although none of the poems it held had helped him tonight. The bedside drawer closed shut with the book back inside it. Vergil looked at his bed. The ache in his stomach grew stronger. He opened his bedroom door to the hallway.  


  


The door slid silently shut behind him. One hand on the wall guided him down towards the front room of the shop. The squeaky parts of the floor expertly avoided so that no sound echoed in the thundering silence.  


  


At the base of the stairs Vergil stared up at the landing. A sense of foolishness had started to grow in his chest. He didn’t need help over something so trivial.  


  


The shadows in the corner of his eye moved. He swore he saw red sparks.  


  


The main office showed no demons from his vantage point at the top of the stairs.  


  


There were no demons here. Those dreams weren’t real.  


  


Each moment he stood there longer, the more reluctant he grew on returning to his room. Alone.  


  


Annoyed at his own feelings, Vergil walked with intent to the only bedroom on the second floor. The door slid open easily as he let himself in. The door closed with a whisper of noise.  


  


The bedroom itself was a mess. Even with the minimal lighting from the window, he could clearly see clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor with magazines and other miscellaneous items. In the middle of the room was a singular bed that contained a sleeping Dante.  


  


Vergil made his way to the right side of the bed. The yamato laid comfortably against the wall near it.  
With his left hand he grabbed and threw back part of the covers. There Dante laid on his back, right arm over his stomach, left arm dangling off the bed.  


  


Vergil looked up at his face in the semi-darkness. He was still sleeping. Vergil’s shoulders dropped in relief at the knowledge. He looked back to the bed.  


  


There was only just enough room for him if he laid on his side. He peeked over to the other side. If Dante moved just a little bit more he’d have more room. He could tell him to move over.  


  


The idea was immediately slapped away and irritation coursed through him.  


  


He was not going to ask for anything. He didn’t need help.  


  


The image of going down the stairs to his room sparked fear underneath his irritation.  


  


Beside himself, Vergil moved to lay down, careful not to disturb the other occupant. Once most of himself was settled, Vergil grabbed the edge of the covers and threw it over both of them.  


  


Curled up on his side, he closed his eyes and breathed evenly.  


  


The irritation soon disappeared, but the fear remained. He saw the red demon dashing towards him. He drew himself closer to the presence next to him. Some of the fear subsided. He willed his thoughts to be still.  


  


Fury and aggravation coursed through his veins.  


  


Each step made the already faded wounds in his stomach pulse.  


  


A red demon with two razor sharp blades in its forearms was long dead, but its attack patterns were burned into his mind. Vergil’s grip on the yamato would have shattered a lesser weapon.  


  


How dare that demon make a fool of him.  


  


He’d been sloppy. There was no grace or precision in that demon’s death.  


  


A resurgence of anger tore through him. He felt his demon form just underneath his skin, ready to tear down the next opponent.  


  


There was movement beside him. Vergil opened his eyes. The warmth he had felt right beside him was now a little further away from him.  


  


“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”  


  


Vergil raised his head to see the owner of the voice. It was Dante.  


  


In the next second, the man had a smile on his face and motioned to the empty space that was in-between them.  
“Figured you didn’t really want to fall off the bed, so I made some accommodations.” He patted the empty space, “It’s all yours.”  


  


Not wanting to hear him say anything else, Vergil moved over to the empty space without a word. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.  


  


“Bad dreams?”  


  


Vergil grit his teeth and didn’t respond.  


  


“Don’t want to talk about it?”  


  


“No,” he felt the irritation in his voice as the word left his mouth.  


  


“Oh, so you do want to talk about it.”  


  


The lightheartedness in Dante’s voice made his already bitter feelings grow stronger. Vergil could taste it on his tongue as he bit out, “ _No. I don’t._ ”  


  


“Alright, alright. You don’t have to tell me,” Vergil felt a hand move through his hair gently. Most of the irritation faded. The hand moved away and he felt a sharp stab of some emotion in his chest.  


  


He opened his eyes. Dante’s right hand had settled back on his stomach. Vergil felt himself being watched. Before Dante could make another comment, Vergil half sat up and pushed Dante’s hand off his stomach. He plopped his head onto Dante’s chest with half of him laying on top of Dante and the other half on the bed.  


  


An uncomfortable pressure pressed into his chest. He reached up to the chain around his neck and pulled the amulet out from underneath him. Even in the dark the red stone was easy to see.  


  


Vergil closed his eyes.  


  


The heartbeat he could hear underneath him was slightly faster than his own, but it soon calmed to a steady beat. A hand rested on his back.  


  


“Get some sleep Verge.”  


  


The nickname was something he loved and hated. It reminded him of another home. Thoughts of an open field and a warm house filled his mind. Mama and his twin, still alive.  


  


Pinpricks of tears threatened to fall even with his eyes closed.  


  


Vergil pushed the thoughts away. Willed himself to focus on what he could hear now. The pulse of his own heart as well Dante’s. With each breath he felt himself calm down.  


  


Eventually, sleep took him once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The demon Vergil was dreaming about was a Fury. 
> 
> As usual, feel free to leave any questions or theories. I reserve the right to be as straight forward or cryptic as hell when answering any of y’all. I feel that it goes without saying, but regular comments are always welcome too.


	4. Someone I Never Knew, Soon Became You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw flashbacks  
> Tw unhealthy coping   
> Tw disassociation  
> Tw depression symptoms & coping
> 
> The first one is in the first part of this chapter with Lady as our narrator.   
> The second one is also in the first part of the chapter and mostly refers to using alcohol as a way to deal with trauma. Nothing super graphic, but in case you wanted a warning.   
> The third one is in the second part and it’s very brief with Dante, but I wanted to give a warning just in case.  
> The fourth one is in the second part. It mostly has to do with Dante’s depression kicking his ass and how he deals with it.
> 
> There is some fighting going on in the first part as well with some blood mentioned, but I don’t believe its super graphic. If y’all would rather I put a warning though, please let me know. 
> 
> Enjoy.

The sound of bullets ricocheting off metal reverberated in the area. It faded as the two figures in the field became one. Lady stood with her pistols in hand and waited. No wind or creatures in the area distracted her from her target. 

  


The silence stretched on. Lady slowly looked around from her position with her feet anchored to the spot.

  


The air to her immediate left changed. 

  


Her pistols were already aimed and firing before her eyes saw her target. The sound of a sword meeting those bullets reached her ears as she turned to face him. 

  


The sight of the blood streaked on Vergil’s cheek made the sour feeling in her stomach sink a fraction more. Lady threw her left pistol in the air. 

  


Another bullet grazed Vergil’s right arm. 

  


The sour feeling sunk deeper. She had to end this.  
The right pistol soon followed the left. 

  


Lady grabbed Kalina Ann from her back and fired directly at him. She caught her left pistol and holstered it.  
Vergil didn’t back down from the rocket. 

  


Lady hovered a finger over a button on the rocket launcher and hit it once the rocket was within a few feet of Vergil. 

  


The rocket missed its target as it exploded in two separate pieces behind him. 

  


A wire wrapped itself around Vergil and Lady yanked him into the air before smashing him back down into the earth. Slightly dazed, Vergil pulled himself into a crouch. His right arm was free from the wire, ready with his sword. 

  


The right pistol fell into Lady’s hand. Aiming and pulling the trigger on her target. 

  


The sound of the bullet hitting metal never came. Instead the bullet had imbedded itself in the earth behind Vergil, only just missing his shoulder. 

  


Lady had missed her shot on purpose and he couldn’t even deflect that. She holstered the gun.  
Fighting him like this was not going to work. Something was wrong. 

  


Maybe she would think he was having an off day, but he was never this _sloppy_.

  


Hitting the release on Kalina Ann, the bayonet uncoiled itself from Vergil. The weapon safely on her back, she addressed him, “Alright. Break time.” 

  


From his half-way position of getting up he bit out a retort. 

  


“We’ve barely started.”

  


“Yeah, and I’m the one in charge here,” she turned on her heel and started walking to the only area not riddled with bullets, “and I say it’s break time.”

  


The field itself was already flattened for the most part, with only the edges still standing upright. At one of these edges was a folded up bright blue jacket and a blanket. Lady grabbed the latter and unfurled it in one motion. With it settled on the ground she made modest modifications and set down Kalina Ann next to it. 

  


Not bothering to look behind her to see if Vergil was coming, she pulled out her phone and set a timer. She threw that onto the blanket followed by herself, lying down on it as well. 

  


Looking up at the sky with her arms behind her head she could almost forget the festering feelings in her gut. 

  


These training sessions were not anything new. 

  


Lady knew how Vergil fought and even on his worse days he was never this bad. She took small comfort in the fact that at least she knew this was nowhere near what Dante’s training had been like. He’d brought it up one night while they were out drinking together and had commented that it wasn’t going well. When she pressed for more he said that the kid was terrible at taking criticism. He hadn’t said anything else, but she assumed that was only half the truth. Instead of waiting for it to completely blow up in his face, she volunteered to train Vergil for him. 

  


Lady could admit one thing Dante was right about: Vergil was awful when it came to criticism. 

  


Their first few meetings were spent arguing because Vergil wouldn’t agree with the feedback she would give him. Lady did her best to keep her own frustration in check. It didn’t stop her from questioning herself on why she was doing this when it felt like nothing was getting done. But she refused to give up. It was at some ungodly hour of the night that she came to a realization. 

  


She needed a new approach. 

  


As soon as the thought came to her, it felt like something had unlocked in the very back of her mind. Memories came to her of a woman with long black hair keeping her cool even when Lady lost hers. 

  


That was all it took for Lady to decide to try out a new method. She’d do what her mother had done when she taught her how to fight: praise him when he did a good job and encourage him when he didn’t get it right. Most importantly: don’t take his anger personally. 

  


When he finally listened to her and tried to incorporate her criticism it was a damn miracle. Progress came a lot easier after that.

  


It was so easy that Lady started to wonder how Dante could have so much trouble with him. Then she thought about it more and concluded that of course he found a way to make this harder. 

  


Vergil had always been an easy kid to look after. He didn’t ask for much and he never made a big fuss. That changed as he got older. Especially when he insisted on being taken on missions a couple years ago. 

  


Now at thirteen years old the kid refused to be left behind at all. It seemed more and more common that he was in a bad mood nowadays. 

  


Today was different. 

  


There were few things that Vergil looked forward to, but Lady could say with certainty that training was one of them. 

  


A barely perceptible sound alerted her that Vergil had settled next to her, out of her field of vision. She’d talk to him in a couple more minutes and get this sorted out. 

  


The sour feeling she’d felt earlier had started when she first saw Vergil today. He’d been wearing a glare that could kill a man on sight. 

  


The training always started early and they spent the day together, but he’d been off the whole time. He didn’t make as many smartass quips. He barely gave any response at all when she talked to him, like his mind was completely elsewhere. 

  


A small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. 

  


If her gut was right, this conversation wouldn’t be easy. 

  


Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she looked to Vergil and said, “So what happened?”

  


Vergil looked back at her from where he sat. He was now wearing the long, bright blue coat, but it was still too big for him. The sleeves were bunched up and pulled back so that his hands were free. He was catching up to her in height, and it was odd thinking that he would be as tall as Dante soon. 

  


Looking at him wearing the same jacket as the Vergil from her memories was weird. But Dante had spent a lot of time and effort to get that jacket made, and since Vergil clearly liked it, she didn’t say anything about it. 

  


“What do you mean, ‘what happened?’,” his eyes narrowed just a hair at her.

  


“Don’t play dumb. That’s Dante’s job.”

  


The glare that had disappeared a couple hours ago came back in full force. 

  


So she’d been right. Dante definitely did something. 

  


“It’s none of your business,” Vergil practically hissed. 

  


Unaffected, Lady replied, “Oh, it’s definitely my business. Especially when it starts making you sloppy.”

  


Vergil bristled at the comment, “I was _not_ sloppy.”

  


Lady tapped her cheek with her finger.

  


“I think the blood on you says otherwise.”

  


As he wiped at the blood, she didn’t say anything else. When he was done he didn’t restart the conversation. He wasn’t looking at her. 

  


Slightly annoyed, she paused for a moment to regain herself. Lady reminded herself that she was the adult here and she would act like it. Once her thoughts were together, she leaned over and tapped his arm.

  


“Out with it.”

  


A moment of stretched out silence. Then a slight movement of his chin in her direction, “He never talks to me.”

  


Well this was starting out great. She couldn’t have asked for something more vague. This might take a while.

  


“You’re going to have to be more specific.” 

  


Vergil fully turned to look back at her.

  


“I just asked him about that stupid glove, and then he acts like I did something wrong,” anger underlying each word as it was spoken. “How am I supposed to know what I did if he won’t even tell me.”

  


A glove. Confusion was the first emotion Lady felt. Dante had tons of gloves. Apprehension crept in; this couldn’t just be about some random glove. Dante wasn’t that petty. Lady shifted her weight.

  


“How long has this been going on?”

  


“Two days.”

  


Some of her own anger started to simmer in her chest. He was getting an asskicking next time she saw him.

  


“That asshole.”

  


Vergil said nothing, but his posture relaxed by a fraction. 

  


“You mentioned asking about a glove. Did he say anything at all about it?”

  


He shook his head.

  


“No. He just tried to change the subject.”

  


Typical, but not surprising. If Dante didn’t want to talk about something you couldn’t make him. Before she could say anything, he interrupted her train of thought with his next sentence.

  


“I asked him about the Temen-ni-gru.”

  


While her thoughts were ground to a halt, he continued, “I wanted to know what he did there. There were many powerful demons guarding it.”

  


A dark sky. A looming tower. 

  


Kalina Ann strapped to her back. Anger the only thing fueling her. 

  


A pistol clutched in her hands.

  


Lady shook her head. Grabbing the images she pushed them back where they belonged.  
Now she understood why Dante was being weird. 

  


The tower was a touchy subject for both of them. They barely talked about it when they would get drunk together. He sure as hell wouldn’t talk about it sober. 

  


Letting out a sigh, she sat up.

  


“You’re never going to get him to talk about that,” she continued before he could get a word of protest out, “He doesn’t like talking about it with anyone. It’s not just you.”

  


The anger rose up in her chest from a simmer to a full boil.

  


“I will admit though, that he’s being awful shitty about this to you. You couldn’t have known he didn’t like talking about it.”

  


Lady looked out at the open field. There wasn’t a breeze, but it was still a nice day. A perfect contrast to the memories that kept trying to creep their way out and ruin her mood. She stomped another one back with some satisfaction. 

  


“What about you?”

  


Lady glanced back to Vergil staring at her. 

  


“What about me?”

  


“You were there. What did you do?”

  


A cold pistol in her hand. A man who didn’t deserve forgiveness reaching out to her. She pushed the thoughts back.

  


“Nothing worth mentioning.”

  


Vergil’s stare intensified, “Do you know what happened to Arkham?”

  


Lady sat up straight. _That name_. Images swirled at the edges of her mind, but she batted them away. 

  


“How do you know that name?”

  


“It doesn’t matter.”

  


“Wrong answer. How do you know it?”

  


The same anger that was boiling under her skin mirrored itself in Vergil’s words: “I just do. Is that insufferable man gone or not?”

  


The anger boiling in her chest returned to a simmer in an instant and was replaced by confoundment. 

  


“Insufferable?” the word colored with her confusion. 

  


While her anger was fading, Vergil’s had morphed into annoyance and it bleed into his voice. “Yes,” he crossed his arms, “Anyone with a brain could take one look at him and know that he is unbearable to be around.”

  


Lady threw back her head and barked out a sharp laugh. 

  


Of all the answers she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that. She felt another laugh bubble up, but pushed it down as best as she could. 

  


Looking back down to Vergil, who’d tensed up, she gave him an answer.

  


“He’s long gone.” 

  


His posture relaxed, “Good.”

  


Lady heard her phone go off behind her and reached back to turn it off. 

  


Training be damned. They could slack off a little. She sat back up.

  


The field was littered with past bullets lodged in the ground and gashes where a sword had sliced through it marking all the times they’d came back here. 

  


The fact that Vergil knew about the Temen-ni-gru was weird. 

  


At first she could pass it off as some more demon stuff Trish had taught him. It was possible that maybe the tower had been really important to demons in some way. Anything was possible when it came to Trish. Even after knowing her girlfriend for years there were some things she still didn’t fully get when it came to demon culture. 

  


But there were very few people who knew that name. 

  


Trish had explained in detail to both her and Dante how this couldn’t be the same Vergil. It had made sense at the time and she didn’t doubt the research Trish had put into it. But she couldn’t shake off the way he’d spoken about the tower. Like he was more familiar with it than what just research would give him. 

  


It sounded like he knew _that man_.

  


A different Vergil had been at the tower. Not this one.

  


Still staring straight ahead she replied, “He wasn’t a good person. It’s good that he’s gone.”

  


If she kept telling herself that, the guilt didn’t feel as heavy. Maybe one day she’d fully believe it. She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

  


Lady turned her head towards Vergil. He’d taken off his coat and it rested neatly in his lap. She still had a lot of questions and knowing Vergil it’d be like pulling teeth to get a straight answer out of him. Guess that was just another thing the brothers had in common. 

  


Normally she’d be more persistent, but… dwelling on this was **not** going to be good for her. It would just bring up more memories she didn’t want to remember. She’d ask Trish and Dante about it later. 

  


“I’ll talk to Dante when we’re done here today. Make sure he stops ignoring you,” she pulled herself up and grabbed Kalina Ann, “If you’re lucky, you’ll get to watch me kick his ass.”

  


Checking that her weapons were fastened in place she added, “You have to promise me that you’re not going to let that argument bother you for the rest of today. If you can’t focus then this is pointless.” 

  


They wouldn’t be fighting anymore today, but she knew that if they wanted to practice his summoned swords abilities that they took concentration to maintain. 

  


“I promise,” came the quick answer. 

  


Lady looked at him. He was standing now. Just a bit behind him, she could see the coat and blanket on the ground. Both folded up neatly with her phone on top of the blanket. 

  


The glare he’d been carrying was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was the picture of determined to work. She felt a huff of pride in her chest. He could be a brat most days, but he wasn’t a bad kid. She walked off to the middle of the field. Her thoughts buzzed as she mentally checked off what they could focus on improving. 

  


She talked out loud for Vergil to give some input on what he thought needed improvement, but she likely knew the answer. He wanted to try and make those blue swords of his fall from the sky like rain. 

  


It was an interesting concept. He was pretty creative when he came up with these new techniques. 

  


\--------------------------------

Inside a Red Grave apartment there sat two persons. One lounged in an arm chair with a novel in hand. She paid no mind to the other person in the room. The other sat on the couch, leaning forward over the documents that littered the coffee table in front of him. 

  


Dante grabbed one of the thicker ones he’d been paging through off the table and another one that had caught his eye. He flipped the thicker one back to its front page and held the two up towards Trish.

  


“What about these two? They definitely fit what we’ve been talking about.”

  


“No.”

  


“Oh come on, you didn’t even look at them! How are you so sure that I’m wrong?”

  


Trish didn’t look up from her novel, “Is it ‘Youth Eternal’ and ‘Bury the Past’?”

  


“Yeah,” a smile spread across his face, “It’s the turn my twin brother into a kid and suppress his memories spells.”

  


Trish looked up at that and he felt his smile get bigger. Now that got her attention. She took one look at the documents though and went right back to her book. As she flipped to the next page she responded.

  


“They won’t work together.”

  


Slight aggravation slid up his spine. The smile slipped off. Out of all of the papers he’d gone through, these were the only ones that would explain what was happening. They had to be the answer.

  


“You’re not even going to give me an explanation?” he shook the lighter one in his right hand, ‘Bury the Past,’ “Suppressed memories where in some cases the memories bleed through or don’t stay completely suppressed.” He shook the document in his left hand, ‘Youth Eternal,’ “Demons that want to stay young looking and even age themselves gradually back to the age they had originally started the spell with.” Dante threw his hands out to the side, “How could they not work together!?”

  


A sharp snap of a book closing and Trish leaned forward with her eyes back on Dante. 

  


“And in all of those cases how successful were they?”

  


He hadn’t read everything in the documents, just enough to understand them, but he wasn’t going to back down.  
“So a few of them messed up on it. No big deal. You gotta have a few failures before you get it right.”

  


“None of them were successful Dante.”

  


Damn it. He thought he could get away with it, but leave it to Trish to know her research. He tossed the documents he held to Trish who caught them with ease. Leaning back, he crossed one leg over the other and threw his arms along the back of the couch.

  


“Alright, I concede. Mind filling me in on how they messed it up?” He motioned towards his head, “My eyes are killing me.”

  


It was a half-truth. Reading all of the papers on the table had been interesting, but after hours of reading his brain could only hold so much information. He’d rather have it explained to him than try to parse the stuffy writing together himself. 

  


Trish stacked the two files in her hands on top of each other. From his vantage point, ‘Youth Eternal’ was on the top of the pile. She glanced down at the papers and back to him. 

  


“The demons that used ‘Youth Eternal’ never stayed young. They had to rely on their own power or find an external source to keep the spell active, which in turn just shortened their lifespans.” Trish leafed through the pages she held, “Those who have endured the effects of ‘Bury the Past’ were never done by the individuals themselves.” 

  


Dante raised an eyebrow at that. That was surprising. He was sure that one would have been self-casted. Though if the success rate was nonexistent there was no use in trying to use it on yourself. He felt an itch of doubt at the back of his mind. 

  


Trish brought the bottom packet to the top of the stack. 

  


“All of them ended in failure. None of them were able to follow through on their intended plans.”

  


The itch was getting stronger. 

  


Dante leaned more heavily into the back of the couch. He needed answers.

  


“That doesn’t mean they’re impossible to do. There just hasn’t been anyone who’s done it right.”

  


Trish narrowed her eyes at him, “I know where you’re going with this and it doesn’t work.”

  


“But I’m right aren’t I? It’s not completely out of the question.”

  


Trish set the papers on the coffee table. 

  


“You’re technically right,” he perked up at that and her eyes sharpened, “but do you know how much power you’d need to do, not just one, but both of these spells?”

  


“Hmmm. I’m going to guess it’s a lot more than what I think it is.”

  


“Right.”

  


Dante sat up straight, “Wait, but the memory one is done by an external party. So couldn’t they use the youth one and then some random person comes along and just decides to delete the others memory?” He motioned with his right hand, “If there’s two different power sources then they can be used together. Right?”

  


Trish’s mouth flattened into a line. 

  


“You can’t use both spells Dante. In theory, yes.” She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, “But not over the course of four years. The power needed would be astronomical. One of us would have noticed.” 

  


When he’d asked about looking into the demon related research done on Vergil, Trish already had it on hand. As soon as his brother had set out to train with Lady today, Dante had met up with Trish. He needed an explanation for what happened two days ago. 

  


Trish lowered her hand. She scanned the coffee table in front of her. 

  


“The longest those spells have lasted individually, in extreme cases, was one year. Nothing more.”

  


She grabbed one of the thicker documents near the edge. Holding it out towards him, she asked, “Did you read this one?”

  


Dante leaned forward and grabbed it. One glance at the title was all he needed. ‘Sensing Demons.’ He felt a headache ready to start if he had to try and read this one more time. He handed it back to her. 

  


“Yes, but you’re gonna have to explain it.”

  


“You didn’t read it.”

  


“I did read it! It just-,” He motioned his right hand passing over the top of his head, “I didn’t really get it.” 

  


Trish thumbed the papers of the document and looked back at him.

  


“You still don’t get this?”

  


Dante shrugged his shoulders.

  


She tapped her chin in thought and then set aside the document.

  


“Each demon has a type of aura to them, correct?”

  


He pictured a semi-transparent color surrounding a nameless demon. It looked off. 

  


“Some of them. Not all of them.”

  


“Perhaps aura isn’t the right word. It’s more like a,” she waved her hand, “presence. You can sense when there are other demons nearby.”

  


Now that made more sense. He nodded, “It comes free with being at least part demon.”

  


That got a small smile out of her.

  


“You can sense when there are new demons in the area. Whenever I know you’re around it’s not the same feeling. It’s more akin to a feeling in the back of my head, but it’s not something I have to immediately pay attention to.”

  


Dante crossed his arms in thought. It used to be that he could sense Trish coming to the shop way before she even made it to the front doors. Now he’d be surprised to see both Lady and her crashing his shop when he was off doing another job. He hadn’t noticed when it stopped. 

  


“You got a point to this?”

  


“If this was really your twin brother then I would have noticed.” Trish stared at him with intent, “Nelo’s presence is hard to miss.” He winced internally at the name. The doubt was pressing in on his chest.

  


“But what if he somehow got rid of it? There’s got to be some way.”

  


Trish shook her head.

  


“No. What Angelo’s go through to become what they are is not so easily overcome. His presence would have been completely altered from its previous state.” Her eyes turned piercing, “Assuming he even survived.”

  


A stab through his heart with a knife of guilt. A lightness started to form just above that wound in his chest. He pulled it out and snuffed the hopeful feeling. He refused to raise his hopes when he knew that his twin was gone. Not when his blood was on his hands. 

  


The doubt became overpowering. 

  


Dante could hear his teeth grinding. He rubbed both hands over his face. They fell back into his lap. “You don’t understand Trish,” his voice sounded as tired as he felt, “There are some things he shouldn’t possibly know about.”

  


The events of two days ago reared its ugly head. 

  


Vergil holding that old, slashed glove he kept in his desk. The first question wasn’t a big deal. Why did he have it? Some memories that deserved to stay forgotten had floated up at the time, but he handled it. He didn’t answer the question, and he’d assumed Vergil would drop it. 

  


Then the next few questions were way too pointed. 

  


_The yamato’s cut wasn’t that deep; why did you keep it?_

  


_What did you do with Force Edge?_

  


If Vergil asked any more questions after that he didn’t register them. 

  


Dante had barely felt like a person the past two days. His brain had completely shut down. He couldn’t even look at Vergil without feeling like his mind was just playing some elaborate, cruel joke on him. Mocking him for ever believing he could have a normal family life. 

  


“Does it matter?”

  


Dante blinked a few times before he fully registered what Trish said. 

  


“What?”

  


“Does it matter if he’s your twin brother?”

  


He stared at the document strewn table. He didn’t know how to answer.

  


“Are you going to throw him out?”

  


Defensiveness and a sliver of distress bolted through him. He half moved to stand, “No! He’s a kid! What the hell Trish!?”

  


Trish sat back in her chair, unaffected, “Then it doesn’t matter. You’d still care about him and look after him.”

  


Any emotions he’d been feeling vanished entirely. 

  


It was such a simple statement.

  


_It doesn’t matter_. 

  


Dante took a deep breath and leaned his head back.

  


The feeling of doubt started to creep back in, but it didn’t feel as oppressing. He thought more on the brother he’d known in the past and the one in the present. A small laugh left him. The more he thought about it, the less similar they appeared. His twin brother would have never gone out of his way to throw a blanket on top of him wherever he’d ended up falling asleep in the shop. Sometimes Dante just couldn’t be bothered to make it to his room. One thought stood out to him the most. 

  


A memory from a couple months ago.

  


It had been a really rough week for Dante. Sleep had alluded him and every day he could feel his mood dipping lower and lower.

  


Each day when the early light of the sun would come through his window he’d be tempted to just stay in bed for the day. But each time he forced himself to get up. 

  


Even if it felt like he had no energy left for the rest of the day. 

  


He was in the front part of the shop, reading a magazine at his desk. None of the words or pictures registered in his mind. He was mostly finding a way to pass the time until Vergil was going to meet Lady. 

  


A good crying and resting, maybe even napping, for the rest of the day would do wonders for his mood. 

  


As the time for Vergil to leave came up, he heard a door open in the back of the shop and footsteps down the hallway.

  


Before he could say anything, the magazine was ripped out of his hands and thrown who knows where. 

  


A letter was slammed onto the desk in front of him. He looked up at Vergil. 

  


Blue coat and the yamato in one hand, he wore a guarded look and only tersely demanded him to read it. Then he was out the door and Dante was left wondering if that interaction really happened. 

  


The letter in front of him was still there and his magazine was on the floor halfway to the couch. 

  


Only slightly annoyed, he picked up the letter and opened it. 

  


Seven small folded pages of what looked like torn out notebook paper fell out of it. The largest paper was the letter itself and had remained inside the envelope. He unfolded one of the smaller pages first. 

  


It was a poem. He unfolded and read all of the small pages.

  


They were all handwritten poems. 

  


Dante had felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. _Did Vergil write these?_

  


Some tears escaped, but he didn’t mind. He just held the papers a little further away from him. He re-read the poems again. 

  


A few more tears escaped as he set the small stack of notebook papers off to the side. He grabbed the last thing left unread, the letter, and unfolded it. 

  


The first time he read it he started completely sobbing when he finished it. 

  


After that he took a nap. When he woke up later he looked over the papers again, making sure he hadn’t hallucinated their existence. 

  


The second time he read the letter he still cried, but not as hard as the first. He folded up all the papers and put them back in their envelope. He opened up the top desk drawer on his right. A slashed glove sat there. Closing the drawer, he tucked the envelope into his jacket pocket. He’d find a better place for it. 

  


Not planning on wasting the day, Dante took another nap, as intended. 

  


Later, when Vergil came back, Dante had immediately pulled him into a hug. Vergil had tensed at the contact, but didn’t push him away. Once Dante said he was happy he was living with him too, he’d relaxed and even half returned the hug. 

  


Back in the present living room of one Miss Lady and Trish, Dante stared up at the ceiling and blinked back the tears at the memory. He was not going to start crying. He let himself slouch forward again when he was certain those tears were in check. 

  


All of the papers in front of him had been useful, but ultimately hadn’t been able to explain what had happened. 

  


Trish was back to reading her novel.

  


The doubt from earlier tried to eat away at him, but he easily kicked it away. 

  


Vergil was his brother. Younger or older, it didn’t matter. 

  


The one in his life right now was someone he cared about. 

  


Dante stretched himself out on the couch. One of the few in existence that could fit his whole body. He got himself comfortable and closed his eyes. He’d do better. If not for himself, then at least for the people he cared about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady, kicking the shop doors in:  
> Dante, whose hearing boss music:  
> Dante:   
> Dante: I probably deserve this.
> 
> Gotta love when you’re experiencing both puberty AND unresolved trauma.   
> Also! Next chapter we get to see Nero! Very exciting. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave any questions or theories. Don’t expect any straight forward answers though. Regular comments are always appreciated too.


	5. Untwine Thy Branches Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t believe there’s any tw I need to put up for this chapter, but leave a comment if there is something y’all think should be up here and I’ll edit it in. Lots of fighting this chapter, but hey! We finally get to see Nero. 
> 
> Also this chapter is the longest out of all of them. I’d apologize for it, but if you’re already on chapter 5 of this fic then I don’t think you’re really upset about it. 
> 
> Enjoy.

The sound of glass crunching under foot was followed by the hum of the equipment in the lab. A blue tube of light in the center of the room made a low hum that got stronger as one got closer to it. The door in the back of the room opened.

  


The humming ceased as the door slid closed behind Nero. 

  


Fresh air hit his lungs in the area right outside of Agnus’ lab, which overlooked a waterfall. The thundering sound of the water filled his thoughts. Looking out in front of him there was another one of those blue circular mechanisms. A small sigh and he grabbed red queen from his back with his left hand. 

  


Thoroughly beaten into submission, the switch activated. 

  


In the distance he heard something heavy fall. Nero looked up in that direction. Another heavy object fell. He kept looking as the dam doors fell in place, blocking off the waterfalls path.

  


As he was thinking why that would possibly be a good thing, a bridge started to extend outwards from where the waterfall had been previously. It connected itself with the side he was on, but at a different elevation than his current position. 

  


All he could think about was how the Order decided to use a really stupid lock system. The mechanisms had been everywhere while he’d been running around Fortuna today. They still didn’t make any sense to him. 

  


Everything today was pissing him off. 

  


First it was Dante, then it was the Order, then Agnus, and who even knew what was happening with Credo. 

  


Credo had known about Dante.

  


Nero shook himself of the thought. Strapping red queen on his back he made his way towards the metal stairs leading out of the barren place. The metal clunked as he made his way up at a light jog.

  


He had to make it back to Headquarters. Credo knew something about what was going on.

  


Small bits of suspicion ate at his thoughts. If Credo had known something, then he sent Nero on this mission for a reason. 

  


The Order knights slaughtered by Dante, demonic faces twisted into silent screams. 

  


Agnus gloating on the experiments he’d made with demons in his lab.

  


The Order was using demons. He didn’t understand why. 

  


At the top of the stairs he slowed down. A small tingling had started in his right arm. He tried to shake it out. 

  


The feeling didn’t fade. 

  


God, he hated this thing. It was bad enough that his white hair and blue eyes made him obviously different from everyone else in the city. A lifetime of getting picked on for his looks and the Savior decided that wasn’t enough for him. He had to have a weird fucking demon arm too. 

  


Covering it up hadn’t been a big deal, he was already left handed. 

  


It was weird to be openly using it now. 

  


A soft blue light had started to emanate from it and it grew in intensity as he got closer to the door at the top of the landing. 

  


The door opened without any resistance. Silently, the door clicked shut as Nero’s footsteps echoed loudly in the short concrete hallway. At the end of it was a much larger room cut in half and reinforced by metal scaffolding and a metal walkway. Familiar humming filled the air. The glowing in his arm dimmed as he walked further into the room. 

  


Nero didn’t like the look of this room. 

  


The giant sized test tubes he could see from where he was made his stomach turn with unease. He tried not to look too long at what was in them. Spotting the stairs for the walkway to his right, Nero started to make his way over to them. 

  


A loud crash of shattering glass and crushing metal from deeper in the room had Nero instinctively grabbing blue rose. 

  


Nothing moved.

  


Nero turned the gun on the figure in his peripheral.

  


The bullets bounced off the Angelo’s shield.

  


Nero holstered the gun and ran towards the Angelo, reaching out with his right arm. The ghostly, extended arm grabbed the top part of the shield. Yanking hard on it, the Angelo dug in its heels to cling to the shield and Nero lifted himself upwards over the Angelo. Letting go of the shield, Nero twisted in the air. Red queen in hand he sliced it down the Angelo’s back as he fell. 

  


No noises came from the suit of armor. A few more slices to its back and it fell to the ground, unmoving. 

  


Not lingering on the Angelo, Nero grabbed blue rose again and surveyed the two other Angelo’s in the room. Metal clashing could be distantly heard. 

  


Aiming for the non-airborne Angelo, he shot two rounds at it. 

  


The Angelo blocked both and stood its ground. The flying Angelo flew in for an opening. Blue rose away, Nero’s right arm reached out and grabbed the shield of the incoming Angelo. It pulled backwards, trying to keep a hold on its shield, stopping its momentum. 

  


Well if he wasn’t going to come to _him_.

  


Nero pulled on the Angelo’s shield and pushed off the ground to meet it in the air. Letting go of the shield with his spectral arm, he wrenched the lance from the Angelo’s hand and smashed it into the Angelo’s chest. It twitched at the sudden weight. Nero slammed the lance in further, knocking it across the room to the ground. 

  


Tucking into a roll, Nero bounced to his feet and pointed blue rose again at the remaining Angelo. Metal clashing sounded again nearby. Gun away, red queen revved to life.

  


The Angelo walked towards him with guarded steps, lance at the ready. 

  


Nero closed the gap and swung at its shield. One, two, three times. Fire spitting from his swings. 

  


On the third strike, it parried his blade. 

  


The Angelo pulled back its lance and struck the air where Nero had been. 

  


From just a little to the right of where the lance had struck; Nero brought his blade down again on the shield, shattering it. 

  


Staggering backwards, it didn’t stand a chance. Another few quick strikes to it and it was done for. 

  


Already turning away and jogging towards the metal stairs before the armor hit the ground Nero pulled out blue rose. With his free hand he reloaded it and snapped the chamber back into place. 

  


The metal clanking of his footsteps mixed with the increasing sound of metal clashing, followed by more glass shattering. 

  


_What the hell was going on over there?_

  


A tube-like cage with a green light flowing though it was in the middle of the caged in catwalk. An Angelo he didn’t recognize was floating inside it. Two more Angelo’s were on the catwalk on either side of it. 

  


Nero bit down the sigh he really wanted to let out. He reached out with his right arm and grabbed the shield of the nearest Angelo. The metal underneath the Angelo screeched as it tried to hold on to its shield. Flipping up and over the Angelo it went down easily. It was the same fate for the other one. 

  


Angelo’s were never fun to fight. They were completely predictable. 

  


At the ladder for the exit of the catwalk, Nero found the source of the distant noises.

  


There was a single Angelo on the far side of the room near a chamber of some sort. 

  


A resounding crash as a bright blue coated man- _oh no_ \- with white, slick backed hair crashed to the ground near the catwalk exit. The ground cratered a bit where he fell. 

  


Nero’s eyes went slightly past the man to the mess behind him. 

  


Torn metal and broken glass littered the floor. Claw marks were on any bit of visible metal available. Whatever had been there before was thoroughly destroyed. He couldn’t even guess what it had been previously. 

  


A flash of blue in his field of vision and he flicked his eyes towards the man as he ran to the opposite side of the room towards a lone Angelo, sword in hand. 

  


The sword strike bounced harmlessly off the shield. 

  


One, two, and on the third it parried. The sword went flying out of the man’s hand. 

  


Nero jumped down from the catwalk and grabbed the sword’s hilt as it flew in his direction. 

  


It vanished into his right arm. Nero narrowed his eyes at the limb. 

  


Summoning the sword again, it manifested in his hand. 

  


A strange feeling crawled in at the back of his mind. He gave the blade a hard look. This weird feeling was different from when he held the yamato. The blade itself seemed… confused? 

  


The man in blue skidded backwards to Nero’s left. 

  


Nero looked back to the other side of the room, just in time to see two more Angelo’s come out of a chamber of some sort. Next to the chamber the metal was completely shredded, likely by the same demon that had destroyed this side of the room if the claw marks he could see were any indication. 

  


The Angelo’s marched towards them. 

  


He looked back at the man in blue who had just gotten back to his feet. 

  


_Was this guy wearing an ascot?_

  


Nero flipped the sword in his hand, pommel out, and offered it to him.

  


“It’s usually a lot easier to fight them with a sword.”

  


The man didn’t look at him and grabbed the offering. A twinge of annoyance at being brushed off hit him, and he summoned forth his own blade. The yamato sent power coursing through him. He needed to remember he had this now. 

  


Without a word, they both took down their respective Angelo. As soon as Nero’s Angelo fell, he heard metal scrapping against itself. He turned and saw a blue demon wrecking the chamber the Angelo’s had emerged from. 

  


A mix of confusion on where the man in blue was and anger spiking at the damage the demon was doing swirled in Nero’s head. He grabbed red queen, revving it. 

  


The demon reached inside the chamber and he heard glass shatter. As bits of glass fell to the floor, the demon turned towards him. 

  


It morphed back into the blue coated man. 

  


More questions popped into his mind at the sight. 

  


“Are you just going to gawk or are you going to leave?”

  


Irritation spiked up his back. He did not like this guy’s attitude. Fuck this guy. He didn’t want the man’s answers even if he did have them. 

  


Nero could feel his anger dripping in his reply, “Whatever.”

  


The man turned away and continued to decimate the machine. 

  


Nero spun on his heel to the hallway leading to the exit. 

  


With the door closed behind him, Nero could still hear the sound of metal being crushed. He pushed the man in blue out of his head. 

  


The mission. Get back to Headquarters.

  


He walked forward and pushed a button on the control panel in front of him.

  


Caution sounds resounded faintly in his head. 

  


_Why didn’t Credo tell him?_

  


The thought bounced around in his head as he made his way up and out of the bottom of Agnus’ lab facilities. 

  


He wanted to believe that Credo would trust him with important information. That he wouldn’t purposefully keep info from him. A small voice in his head whispered that Credo knew it’d be dangerous. 

  


Familiar cobblestone stairs trampled underfoot as he made his way up to the Grand Hall. A turn left and slamming the door open with his shoulder led to the outside air. The wood splintered from the force and he felt part of his lips pull up in a grin at the sound. 

  


The Order was keeping too many secrets. 

  


Everyone was keeping too many secrets. 

  


It was pissing him off. 

  


The small bridge leading to where he assumed that bigger bridge connected to the waterfall was quiet as he ran across it. The cold air pierced his lungs. It turned a couple degrees cooler and Nero was already grabbing his sword. 

  


Two Frosts manifested and Nero got to work. His thoughts distracted him. Leaving him vulnerable and being thrown around a bit more than usual. 

  


Eventually, both Frosts fell. 

  


Nero continued on his way, shoving more of his concerns to the side. He’d get his answers eventually. He pushed through the door at the end of the bridge. 

  


Jogging forward to the railing on the staircase, he leaned over it. Down at the plaza where the statue of what looked like a chess piece with a glowing top to it, a bridge was connected to where the waterfall had been previously. Pushing off the railing, he started down the stairs on his right. 

  


The pink light of the statue brought up an older memory. Nero swore the statue looked like a pawn, Kyrie insisted it looked like a bishop, and Credo said it had to be a rook. 

  


Turning at the first landing of the stairs, he felt a small smile pull at his lips. They never could agree on who was right.

  


Nero started descending the second set of stairs. 

  


Bright blue on top of the fountain at the bottom stuck out of the corner of his eye. Smile dropped, his eyes flicked up and he grabbed the hilt of his sword. 

  


The blue coated man was sitting on the top of the inactive fountain, reading. 

  


_Oh, I am not wasting my time with this guy_. 

  


Nero made it to the bottom of the stairs and immediately turned towards the chess piece statue. The steady pink light glowing from the top of the statue made it hurt to stare at for too long. Halfway to the statue Nero heard the sound of shoes scrapping against stone. 

  


Hurried footsteps came increasingly closer behind him. 

  


In one motion, Nero grabbed blue rose and turned to face the man, gun first. In a half-contained snarl he spit out, “I am **not** in the mood.”

  


The man stopped a couple feet away, a wary look on his face.

  


“I don’t want to fight you,” the wariness smoothed down to a neutral expression, “I need to speak with you.”

  


“Well I don’t need to speak with you,” Nero lowered the gun and half turned away from the man, “so do me a favor and buzz off.”

  


With that final statement Nero completed said turn and continued towards the statue. 

  


“Wait-“

  


Nero raised a hand up in reply. 

  


“I already have one white haired asshole to deal with; I’m not dealing with another one.”

  


Nero continued walking. Once past the pawn statue he felt a bit of the tension leak out of his shoulders. At least he could get rid of one problem easily.

  


“I can tell you more about Dante.”

  


At the beginning of the bridge that connected to the cliff he stopped. If that didn’t count as a highly suspicious statement he didn’t know what would. 

  


It seemed like everyone knew Dante. Everyone but him. 

  


“Why should I trust you? For all I know you could just lie to me.”

  


The silence that rarely filled the location was unnerving. Nero turned away from bridge as the man started to answer him.

  


“I’m his brother.”

  


The man was still only a couple feet away from him. There hadn’t been a single sound indicating that he had moved. Unnerving as it was, Nero considered what he said. The white hair definitely checked out. Along with being about as tall as Nero himself and wearing a very bright, long coat. 

  


Yeah, he could see those two being related to each other. Though he wasn’t just going to take what the man said at face value.

  


Mirroring his neutral expression, Nero replied, “How convenient.”

  


A flash of irritation in the man’s eyes that was gone as soon as it came. He said, “He’s older than me, but he is my brother.”

  


Nero crossed his arms. 

  


Impatience cracked the man’s expression. 

  


“Look.”

  


He lifted his sword sheath horizontally in his left hand out in front of him. Grabbing the handle with his right, he drew the blade out partially. When Nero made no indication that he would move, the man moved instead. Only close enough that Nero could see the sword more clearly. 

  


“The sword you have is the yamato. It’s the same as mine. The one you wield belongs to Dante’s brother and that’s why he’s here.”

  


Nero leaned in a little closer. The hilt and the guard did look familiar. 

  


He uncrossed his arms and held out his right hand. The yamato materialized in his hand. Comparing them side by side, they weren’t just the same. They were identical. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but his mind lingered on what the man said. The way he had phrased that last sentence bothered him. 

  


Nero lowered his arm and said, “What, one sword isn’t enough for you?”

  


The man re-sheathed the blade with a small clink. Lowering it to his side he replied, “It belongs to Dante’s brother.”

  


“Yeah, and you’re his brother.”

  


“He has another brother, a twin,” some uncertainty followed his next words, “He’s a lot older than me as well.”

  


_Again with the weird phrasing_. From the sound of it, the fact that they were older than him was somehow significant. 

  


“Just how old are you?”

  


He had to be around his age at least. There was no way this guy was older than him.

  


“Fourteen.”

  


_**FOURTEEN!?** _

  


He felt his brain halt all other thoughts to take in the information. The guy was as tall as he was, maybe an inch shorter. There was no way he was only fourteen. He had to be fucking with him. If he wasn’t then-

  


A wave of shame rolled over him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

  


God he’d been such an asshole. Even if he had been the one to be an asshole first that didn’t mean Nero had to be a jerk back. 

  


Opening his eyes and lowering his hand he looked at the kid. The blue coat he wore was bunched up in parts of the sleeves where it looked to be just a little too big on him. There were deep bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept well in a while. 

  


The kids face was still neutral, but there was an expectant look in his eyes.

  


Nero dispelled the sword in his hand. He looked behind him at the bridge and then back to him. 

  


“Alright. I can’t talk right now,” he pointed behind him, “I still have to get some stuff done, but if you want to tag along until I’m done I won’t stop you.”

  


The kids’ expression didn’t change, but there was a glimmer in his eyes now. 

  


Nero needed a confirmation, “Is that a yes?”

  


“Yes. I would like that.”

  


“What’s your name?”

  


“Vergil.”

  


“I’m Nero.”

  


Nero turned on his heel and continued across the bridge, “Don’t wait up.”

  


\--------------------------------------

  


The kid was on his way here.

  


Finally.

  


Dante had planted himself in a room that he knew the kid would have to go through to get where he was headed. The room itself was much like the architecture of all the other rooms. 

  


High windows filled with concrete lined the two sides of the walls with bars over each one. In the middle of those walls stood two alters, one side of the room a reflection of the other. The center of the room held a high roofed, rectangular gazebo supported by four pillars. Small steps led up to it from all four sides. 

  


Dante was leaning against the pillar closest to the door where the kid would come through. His sword resting, blade tip pointed to the floor, out in front of him with his hands lazily holding the grip to keep it in place. 

  


On the last two walls there were ornately, high ceiling double doors. The exception being one included a small hallway for the door opposite of where the kid was coming from. 

  


Speaking of, that kid was getting really close now. 

  


The demonic energy he had only faintly sensed from him before was now in full-force. It was practically drowning out any other demonic presence with how loud it was. 

  


The feeling that had made a home in his chest traveled through him again.

  


He knew that aura. 

  


Before he could just wave it off as being a coincidence that the kid looked so much like his twin brother or that his hair was way too white for it to be hair dye. 

  


The energy that was steadily coming closer was mixed with the yamato’s. 

  


Dante tried to lean a bit further into the uncomfortable pillar behind him. 

  


The kid had made finding the sword much easier. When he first heard that it was here he hadn’t planned on staying any longer than it took to find it. It was only because Trish had asked for his help that he was still here. The same went for Lady. If she hadn’t asked, he would have torn up the island looking for it. She had it on good reliance that there was a lot more going on than what was on the surface and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when she was right. 

  


Apparently they were doing experiments on humans and demons. Who knows how many of them actually wanted to take part in it. 

  


The obsession with Sparda was also weirding him out. Seemed like everyone on the island already knew who he was if the amount of demonic soldiers chasing him since he got here were anything to go off of. 

  


He hoped that no one else had noticed the kid’s connection with Sparda. 

  


It was one thing if they wanted to come after Dante, but he didn’t want to get anymore family involved with this shit.

  


The kid was definitely in the next room now. Dante made his shoulders relax. He grabbed the feeling in his chest and shoved it down and away. He’d deal with it later. 

  


The door to his right busted open.

  


Out of the corner of his eye he saw the kid stalk inside and stop. 

  


A second figure was right behind him. 

  


The doors closed. 

  


Showtime.

  


“What took you so long?”

  


Dante grabbed his sword in one hand and pushed off the pillar to fully face his audience. Swinging the sword onto his back he felt his blood run cold. Nothing bleed onto his face, but he could feel his panic trying to rise up.

  


_Why is Vergil here?_

  


From the look on Vergil’s face it looked like he hadn’t expected to see Dante either. The bags underneath his eyes were still there. Looks like he hadn’t slept again since the day Dante left. 

  


Slowly walking to be in front of the kid’s path, Dante switched his attention.

  


The kid looked downright pissed as he answered him.

  


“You… What are you doing here?” Not waiting for Dante’s answer, he stormed forward and kept talking. “Forget it. I don’t have time for this.”

  


Pushing Dante out of his path, the kid moved towards the opposite door. Moving with the motion though, Dante reached out and caught the kids left shoulder with his hand, “And neither do I.”

  


Instincts kicked in and Dante let go of the kid’s shoulder, leaning back to the left and avoiding the kids punch. The force of the punch making the kid have to right himself. He threw another punch with his right arm at Dante. Catching the kid’s wrist in one hand he remarked, “So I’ll cut to the chase.”

  


The anger radiating off the kid was practically palpable. 

  


The hand holding the kid’s wrist grew warmer as the glow of his arm intensified. He could feel the kid struggling to get his arm out of his grip. 

  


Not wanting to get hit with whatever was going to come next, Dante let go. 

  


The kid stumbled backwards at the sudden release and crashed into the wall behind him. A huge dust cloud appeared from the impact. The stone cracked and spider webbed up the wall. Bits of rubble fell to the floor. 

  


Taking a few steps forward to the dust cloud, he saw Vergil back up from him in the corner of his eye. Suppressing the panic eating away at him, he brought his mind back to what was in front of him. Priorities. 

  


“I’m here for the sword.”

  


The dust cloud began to settle. The kid’s form was just about visible within it. A blue aura radiated off his upper body, “Your point being?” The blue grew brighter and pushed itself outwards from the kid in a surge. 

  


Dante brought up a hand to cover his eyes from the dust that followed it. Lowering his hand, he saw something a bit unexpected. 

  


The kid was definitely using a devil trigger, but instead of his entire form changing, there was some ghostly demon floating behind him. The yamato was gripped in his right hand. 

  


Looks like this wasn’t going to end peacefully. He couldn’t say he was surprised. 

  


“It was originally my brother’s.” Dante reached his right arm behind him and grabbed the hilt of the rebellion. “Return it to me,” he swung the blade off his back, “and I’ll let you go, kid.” He ended it with a small smirk. 

  


“Kid? Well...” The kid reached up and rubbed his nose with his free hand. His demeanor was trying to come off as collected, but he knew he was still furious. The kid’s following words affirmed that assumption with the anger cracking through. 

  


“If that’s how you see me I think you’ll blush a pretty pink,” he drew back the yamato, the phantom copying his motions, “when I kick your ass!” Letting the blade sweep back out in front of him, a wave of blue energy rushed towards Dante. 

  


Trickstering out of the way, Dante rested on top of the gazebo with one leg crossed over the other and the rebellion slung over his left shoulder. The pillar that took the impact of the blue energy crumbled to the ground, raining rubble. 

  


Wow. 

  


The kid was stronger than he gave him credit for. He turned his head from the destruction and back to the kid. 

  


Vergil wasn’t in sight anymore. 

  


He felt a rush of energy behind him and swept his blade out behind him without looking. The familiar sound of summon swords breaking was his answer. 

  


Dante spun himself up into standing, swinging his blade in the same direction. Vergil meet the blade with his own and careened backwards from the blow. Dante moved forward with another swipe of his blade and forced him to back up out of the blades’ arc. With no more space behind him, Vergil flipped himself off the gazebo.

  


Before the kid got any bright ideas, Dante trickstered off the gazebo and landed in front of the hallway leading to the exit.

  


“Let’s all keep this a fair fight, yeah?”

  


With the yamato drawn, Vergil responded, “I hardly call this a fair fight.”

  


_Oh, that cocky little punk_. He let out a dramatic sigh he didn’t really feel. 

  


“I agree; this isn’t really fair for you two, but I can’t be going easy on you guys. I got a reputation to think about!”

  


Two yamato’s and two equally annoyed relatives of his wore the same piercing glare. They weren't leaving this place until they’d kicked his ass. 

  


Before they had shown up he had considered not holding back as much when he thought it would just be him and the kid. Even with the kid’s new devil trigger he knew that he could take him without going all out. With the surprise addition of a little brother of his, he couldn’t take this fight leisurely. 

  


On their own, the two were fairly strong. Not enough to really challenge him, but enough to make him pay attention unless he wanted to get unnecessarily stabbed. He didn’t know what to expect with them working together.

  


Blades clashed and bullets ricocheted in the small room. 

  


A block from the kid’s gun and then spinning in place to catch the blade of Vergil’s strike. Pushing Vergil back, he had to give them some credit. 

  


They were making him work for this victory. 

  


Some of their combos were even pretty impressive, but they were messy. Too many close calls where he ducked out of the way or parried at an odd beat in the fight that had the two almost hitting each other instead. They definitely hadn’t been fighting together for very long.

  


Along with Vergil being sleep deprived and the kid letting his anger fight for him, he just had to wait for one of them to screw up. 

  


As the fight dragged on, Dante saw his chance. 

  


After having rolled out of the way of Vergil’s summon swords from falling right on him and pushing the kid back he put the rebellion away. 

  


Bending his knees and slightly crouching over, Dante clapped his hands at the kid and whistled like he was calling a dog. 

  


If he was pissed before he was downright infuriated now. 

  


The kid ran towards him with a yell and swung the yamato at him. Dante just barely drew rebellion to block the sword’s arc, getting blown backwards with the force but still upright. The kid kept running towards him, a flurry of hard blows that Dante parried one right after the other. His grip on the blade shifted from the relentless assault. 

  


An upward slash from the kid sent his sword flying out of his hand. 

  


A twirl of the blade, and the kid ran the blade forward for his chest. 

  


Moving to the left and towards the kid, the blade went harmlessly past him. 

  


With a slight hop, Dante reached out with his right hand for the kid’s head and pushed him forward. The kid went careening to the floor and the rebellion fell into Dante’s waiting hand. 

  


Meeting Vergil’s blade as it came down on his left, he pushed the blades over to the right and reached over with his left hand. Grabbing both Vergil’s hand and the hilt of the yamato at once, Dante pulled him to his right. Struggling to keep up with what he was doing, Vergil and Dante twirled once, twice over to the kid. 

  


At the end of the last turn, Dante brought down his right foot on the kid’s demonic arm that held the yamato. 

  


With his left arm still holding Vergil and the sword, he pulled his brother’s back against his chest and twisted his arm at an odd angle so that the yamato’s blade pressed up against Vergil’s neck. 

  


The kid moved to sit up and he brought down his sword close to his neck. 

  


Allowing himself to show off that he was actually winded, Dante huffed out, “You cooled off yet, kid?” He turned his head away and didn’t answer. With still labored breathes Dante continued, “What’s the matter? Why the glare?”

  


Even without him looking he knew that Vergil was glaring at him too. 

  


With barely contained anger the kid spoke, “You look as if you’ve just been playing us from the beginning.”

  


The kid was sharp. 

  


It might have looked like he was just messing with them, but credit where credit was due. Looking down at the kid again, he could see that anger from before was starting to fade. 

  


Pulling up the rebellion from the kid’s neck, Dante turned on his left foot and walked a few steps away from the kid. With Vergil still pushed against his chest, Dante slowly let up the pressure he was using to keep the blade in place on Vergil’s neck. 

  


The kid might have cooled off, but Vergil was a different case. As he did so, he projected his voice so that the kid would hear him. 

  


“That sword was used to separate our world from the demons.”

  


Not letting go of his grip on the sword, Vergil pushed himself outward and turned to face him. The look in his eyes was hard to read for about anyone else, but he could tell that he had his brother’s attention. 

  


Dante let go of his grip on the sword and as Vergil sheathed the blade, he turned to the kid to continue his little speech. 

  


“I can’t have something of that kinda power floating around now can I?”

  


The kid got up from the floor. He looked at the blade still in his hand. 

  


Tapping his chest Dante finished off with, “It’s got to stay in the family.”

  


The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on him. 

  


Oh well. Roll with it. 

  


“I need this,” the kid said in a pleading tone. 

  


_What a little punk_. Dante shook his head.

  


“Then keep it.”

  


The kid looked up at him with wide eyes at his answer. He felt Vergil’s eyes boring into his back too.

  


Honestly, he would be giving himself a weird look too. He waved it off.

  


“Now that you’re calm and cool…” he thumbed over to the exit, “get going.”

  


Not wasting a moment, the kid tightened his grip on the blade and walked past Dante. 

  


Turning with him, he brought his hand down on Vergil’s shoulder. Stopping him mid-step from walking with the kid. Vergil gave him an irritated look, but Dante just smiled and tightened his grip a bit more. There was no way he was leaving. 

  


The kid looked like he wanted to say something, but he beat him to it. 

  


“Thanks for babysitting my little bro, but I’ll look after him now.”

  


He felt a sharp jab in his rips, but he hardly reacted. 

  


Lingering another second, the kid turned away. Part way to the exit, Dante remembered a question he still needed an answer to.

  


“Hey!”

  


The kid stopped.

  


“What’s your name?”

  


“Nero. You’re Dante, right?”

  


“That’s me.”

  


“Go easy on your brother,” Nero paused, “He was a big help.”

  


Vergil responded with little heat to his words, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  


Dante felt a small bit of amazement light up in his head. He hadn’t expected Vergil to be _that nice_ to Nero. Maybe their time together had even been a little fun. Dialing up his amazement on the outside, Dante gave a hearty laugh.

  


“You must be something special Nero! Vergil isn’t this nice to just anybody.”

  


Another jab at his ribs. 

  


Dante glared down at Vergil, the smile still on his face. The annoyance on Vergil’s face wavered and he looked away. 

  


Nero’s footsteps filled the silence as he left the remnants of the room. When he heard the doors click shut, Dante let go of Vergil’s shoulder and fully faced him. Before he could get a word out though Vergil was already speaking.

  


“So you’re willing to bring him up to a total stranger, but you won’t talk to me about him?”

  


_Shit. Of course he would pick up on that_.

  


He shouldn’t have brought up his twin. 

  


“You want to tell me why you’re here?”

  


“There are two yamato’s, Dante. That shouldn’t be possible.”

  


“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  


“Stop avoiding the topic!”

  


“We are not having this discussion, Vergil.”

  


“Of course we aren’t,” resentment seeped into his brother’s words as he spat out, “you only talk when it’s convenient for you.”

  


Dante puts his hands on his hips. Told himself that what he was saying didn’t hurt. It couldn’t hurt him even if what he was saying was the truth. He knew he kept too many things from Vergil. 

  


But there was never a good time to talk. 

  


Anytime he seriously thought about it, memories he didn’t want to think about sprung up and screwed him over for the rest of the day. Sometimes even days afterwards. He would never be ready. 

  


“I’m going to ask one more time. Not even touching on how the hell you even got here, **why** are you here?”

  


“It doesn’t matter. I just am.”

  


“Do you think playing coy is going to get you out of trouble?”

  


Vergil shrank back a bit from Dante, but kept eye contact with him. 

  


“Did you think there wasn’t going to be any consequences?”

  


“I fail to see any negative consequences from me being here.”

  


“Oh?” Dante felt a smirk pull at one end of his lips, “You don’t think so? Disobeying something I explicitly told you not to do is totally fine then?”

  


“That’s not what I said.”

  


“You didn’t have to.”

  


“You’re overreacting.”

  


“I think I’m reacting a perfectly normal amount. In fact, since you seem to not be taking this as seriously as you should be: let’s figure out your punishment now.”

  


Vergil let out a huff. He still wasn’t taking this seriously. Dante’s blood boiled at the nonchalant behavior. 

  


“When we get back home I think I’m gonna take that amulet away for a bit.”

  


Dante wanted to stuff those words back into his mouth. 

  


Memories of being on his own with only a sword and the red glow of his silver amulet to keep him company. That necklace had kept him going more times than he could count when he was younger. He’d assumed that his brother had felt the same. 

  


If he wasn’t sure before, the spike of alarm that flashed in Vergil’s eyes told him he was right. One of his hands reached up towards his neck to where the gold chain rested underneath his shirt. The slight tremor in his brother’s voice cut him deeper than anything else. 

  


“You can’t do that.”

  


“I definitely can do that. You’re lucky I’m not taking it away right now.”

  


Vergil took in a shaky breath. Some sharpness returned to his voice. 

  


“I break one rule on accident and you’re going to treat me this harshly? What about next time when I break a rule on purpose? Are you going to do some other extreme punishment?”

  


Dante crossed his arms. 

  


Vergil’s words were always gutting, but it was better if he let him get this out of his system now. The sharpness in Vergil’s voice refined itself with each word he spoke. 

  


“Talking about rules as if you care about them. You don’t even follow your own rules! You think I don’t notice when you _stay up for days? Or that you barley eat?_ But the moment I step out of line I’m the one at fault! I hate your stupid rules and I hate staying with you!” A certain clarity surfaced in Vergil’s eyes, “What I hate the most though is that you always treat me like a child. You never see me as your equal. Lady and Trish at least respect me. You think I’m helpless. You think I can’t take care of myself, but that’s not true at all.” 

  


With a fire in his eyes and a growing dread in Dante’s stomach, Vergil stated: “I don’t need you, Dante.”

  


Dante felt something inside him shatter. He felt nothing and he felt everything. He didn’t know how to react.

  


_**I don’t need you.** _

  


Vergil was turning away from him. He was going towards the exit that Nero had gone through not that long ago. Everything felt as if it was happening in slow motion. Dante reached out to stop him. 

  


As his hand slowly reached for his brother, he felt what had shattered being scooped back together, hardened. 

  


Every time he tried to tell himself that he didn’t care or that it didn’t hurt. 

  


It was a lie he knew well. He had to believe it if he wanted to survive. 

  


He was almost there. 

  


Not caring had kept himself safe. Made things not hurt as much as he knew they did. Not caring had gotten his brother killed. 

  


The first time when his brother fell from the tower and the wound on his palm scarred over. 

  


The second when he didn’t recognize him until it was far too late. 

  


His hand firmly grabbed his brother’s shoulder. He would **not** kill Vergil a third time.

  


Vergil tried to shake off his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. Dante roughly pushed him around to face him again. Both of his hands gripped Vergil’s shoulders tightly. 

  


“That’s **enough.** ”

  


Dante barely recognized his own voice. He couldn’t tell what expression he was making, but from Vergil’s uncertain look it was intense. 

  


“You’re going to go back to the center of this town and find Lady. You will **stay** with Lady until Trish and I get this mess under control. You will listen to everything she tells you to do and **not** complain.”

  


Letting go of one of Vergil’s shoulder he gave a small, disingenuous smile.

  


“Got it?”

  


Vergil didn’t respond for a moment, frozen in place. 

  


Dante tightened his grip a fraction more.

  


“ _ **Got it?**_ ”

  


Vergil slightly flinched, “Yes.”

  


Dante let go of his shoulder.

  


“Then go.”

  


Vergil hesitated. Dante crossed his arms.

  


“ **Now**.” 

  


He moved past Dante for the entrance to the room. Looking over he saw Trish leaning against the door. She reached out an arm in front of the door before Vergil could go through. 

  


Dante turned away and pretended not to hear what they were saying. Trish spoke in a hushed tone. One thing he’d never expected was for Vergil to get along with her so well. For being a full demon she was surprisingly good with kids. Or at least half demon kids. Okay maybe it was just Vergil, but he was picky about the people he liked.

  


If Vergil spoke at all during the exchange Dante didn’t hear it. The sound of the door opening and closing was his only cue that Vergil had left. 

  


Heels clicking against the ground followed up behind him. 

  


“You know that was too much.” 

  


Dante shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands. 

  


“You have any other ideas on what would have made him listen to me?” 

  


Trish appeared in front of him. Wearing all black and heels that made her already tall physique tower over him. An unreadable look was all she gave him. 

  


“It still wasn’t right.” 

  


“You got me there.” A big sigh left him, “Let’s deal with this later. Alright?” 

  


A nod from her and they set out for the exit down the hallway. 

  


Dante didn’t have to worry about Vergil; he trusted Lady would look after him. With one worry out of the way, he could focus on Nero. The nephew he never knew he had. He was not going to lose any more family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overall, I am very pleased with how this chapter turned out! I thought it was one of my weaker chapters at first, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. 
> 
> The room that Nero and Vergil first meet in is called the Angel Creation room.  
> For the second part I literally had to replay a video every few seconds on the cutscene I was following so I could translate what was happening into words. So if the scene seemed very familiar then you know why. It basically became that cutscene from the actual game + Vergil is there too. 
> 
> The tone of voice I was going for Dante at the end is basically the voice parents/guardians use when you know you’re in Big Trouble. 
> 
> As usual, feel free to leave any questions or theories. I will be as cryptic as I want. Regular comments are also appreciated too.


	6. Untwine Thy Branches Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw references to trauma  
> Tw unhealthy coping
> 
> They’re in the second part of the chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy.

The plaza was a complete disaster. The stone paths were barely in one piece, and the fountain at the center was destroyed, spewing water everywhere. The only things that somehow survived were the gates surrounding the plaza and the steps up to the main cathedral. With the ambient noise of the destroyed fountain spewing water in the background, Nero watched Dante’s retreating back. 

  


The Savior was gone. 

  


Dante walked on through what was left of the gates that lead back into town. Absorbing the yamato back into his arm, Nero didn’t know what to feel. So much had happened today. 

  


Had it really been only one day?

  


“Nero…” came a familiar voice from behind him. 

  


He turned around to see Kyrie. The concern on her face evident in the cute way she scrunched up her eyebrows. At least some things never changed. 

  


“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  


“No, I’m fine. What about you?”

  


“I’m fi-” Kyrie paused, “Actually, I don’t know.” She brought some of her loose hair to the front and started running her fingers through it. “I think all of today’s excitement has gotten to me.” She looked back up at him.

  


“Are you sure you’re okay?”

  


Nero stopped himself from reflexively responding. Kyrie deserved the truth and she wouldn’t be asking him again if he had sounded more certain before. He ran a hand through his hair.

  


“Physically, yeah, I’m okay. Anything else though,” Nero gave a half-shrug, “I feel the same as you. I don’t know.”

  


Kyrie reached out halfway between them towards Nero’s right arm.

  


“What about your…”

  


Nero moved his arm behind his back. The splash of water hitting the ground filled the stillness. 

  


Kyrie put her hands in the space between them with her palms facing up. 

  


“May I?”

  


After a beat, he put his right arm in her hands. Nero looked away as she turned his hand over and went about inspecting it. He focused on some of the upturned stone pathway in the distance. Water trickled around it and into the dirt. 

  


He could feel her holding his forearm with one hand and the other feeling what must have been the ridges of the demonic arm. It just felt like she was touching the back of his arm. 

  


If he didn’t look at it, his right arm didn’t feel any different from his left. If he didn’t know any better he would say it felt normal. Human. 

  


Nero tried to focus on the distant stones as he felt Kyrie inspect his palm. 

  


“Oh wow.”

  


He flicked his eyes back over to her. She was touching his palm with the tips of her fingers. Sparks went up his arm at the gentle contact. Not taking her eyes off his arm she said, “It’s a lot softer than I expected.” 

  


Nero felt his ears start to burn and quickly looked away. He pretended he didn’t feel her slowly wrapping her hand in his. The heat crawling up his neck was just from all the fighting he’d been doing today. Nero was a half second away from pulling his hand out of Kyrie’s. 

  


“How long?”

  


The question cut through his thoughts. _How long has it been since your arm changed?_ She didn’t say it out loud, but she didn’t have to. 

  


“Awhile.” A few years. 

  


“That long, huh?”

  


Nero looked down at their hands. The soft glow of his blue palm reflected onto Kyrie’s skin where their fingers interlocked together. 

  


“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner," regret heavy in her voice. 

  


“Don’t be. I didn’t want you to know.”

  


“Still….”

  


A pinprick of coldness struck deep in his chest. Nero slowly wrapped his fingers back over Kyrie’s knuckles.

  


“I couldn’t talk about this. Not to you or anyone else.”

  


The splashes of the fountain echoed on broken stone. Both of them not quite meeting the others eyes.

  


“I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t have panicked a little if you had shown this to me before today,” Kyrie said with no uncertainty. 

  


The red ridges and soft blue glow were starting to annoy him the longer he looked at it. Nero narrowed his eyes at the limb. Stupid fucking arm. 

  


“But afterwards, I like to believe that it wouldn’t have mattered to me.”

  


Nero looked up at Kyrie, who gave him a small smile. 

  


“At the end of the day, you’re still you. Demonic arm or not, I would still want you in my life. You’re very important to me, Nero.”

  


Heat rushed up his neck again and he felt tears in his eyes. No. NO. He was NOT going to start crying. He looked away and rubbed his nose. 

  


“You’re important to me too.”

  


Nero looked into the distance and focused on his breathing. Making sure his breathes came out even and stopping any escalation on his emotions. He’d imagined what showing his arm to her and Credo would be like many times. There were just as many times where they hated him for it as there were times where they didn’t bat an eye at it. This was a pretty good outcome in his books. 

  


When he felt as if the swelling emotion in his chest had quieted down enough and his eyes didn’t threaten to spill tears, he looked back at her. 

  


“Thanks.”

  


“I’m here for you Nero.”

  


“And I’m here for you too.”

  


He felt a smile pull at his lips to match the one Kyrie still sported. For a moment it looked like she was going to say something else. Then her eyes flickered past him at the same time he heard a noise further behind him. Nero dropped his hand from Kyrie’s and pointed blue rose at the source. 

  


A flash of light blue fell to the ground from the top of the gate. The figure that emerged after they rolled from the fall had swept back white hair and a light blue coat.

  


Nero put away blue rose. Vergil locked eyes with him and made his way over. 

  


Kyrie leaned over to him in the corner of his eye, “You were with him before. Who is that?” 

  


Nero leaned back towards her, “That’s Dante’s brother, Vergil.” 

  


“His brother?” the confusion evident in her tone.

  


“Younger brother.”

  


Kyrie flicked her eyes over to Vergil as he drew closer, and back to him. She gave him a questioning look.

  


“He’s fourteen.”

  


Kyrie’s eyes widened at the information. She looked at Vergil again and then back to him. 

  


Nero had to stifle the laugh he felt in his chest. She clearly had more questions, but Vergil had already made it within hearing distance so he straightened up as the kid grew closer. Before he could even say anything, Vergil cut him off.

  


“Do you still have the yamato?”

  


“Hello to you too.”

  


“Do you have it? Did Dante take it?”

  


Nero raised an eyebrow at that. Vergil sounded almost… desperate.

  


“No. I still have it.” 

  


“Good. Let’s talk then.”

  


“Talk?”

  


“Yes.”

  


Vergil indicated towards the remains of the Savior statue he’d demolished.

  


“You’ve dealt with that problem,” he nodded towards Kyrie, “and I’m glad to see that you’re well.”

  


Kyrie was playing with her hair again, and clearly didn’t expect the acknowledgment. Her voice pitched up an octave in her response. 

  


“Thank you! I’m glad to be well.”

  


Nero swore he saw a hint of a smile on Vergil’s face, but if it was there it was gone when he continued.

  


“There’s a gate here in Fortuna and I need your help opening it.”

  


“A gate?”

  


“A portal.”

  


Nero narrowed his eyes and suspicion crawled up his back. He had to be talking about a hell gate. They just dealt with a whole city of demons and he wanted more of them? He crossed his arms. 

  


“You want more demons running around then you can go figure it out yourself.”

  


“Demons? Why would I summon them here?”

  


“I don’t know Vergil. You tell me.”

  


Confusion still written across his face, Vergil hesitated before talking, “It’s not a portal to the Underworld. It will connect there briefly, but that’s not where it will end.”

  


That still didn’t sound promising. Nero’s thoughts swirled around as he contemplated what to make of this. He barely knew the kid, but he didn’t seem the type to bullshit his way through something without being very obvious about it. 

  


“I wouldn’t be asking for your help if I could do this on my own.” 

  


There was that hint of desperation again. 

  


Nero uncrossed his arms. Ready to answer, Nero saw a flicker of red just past Vergil’s shoulder emerge from one of the plaza gates. He flicked his eyes to the figure and changed his answer on the spot. 

  


Nero nodded at Dante and said, “It depends on what he has to say.”

  


Vergil whipped his head to see Dante approaching them at a carefree stride. Turning back just as quickly, he looked right at Nero with fear in his eyes and said, “ **Don’t tell him**.”

  


Bewilderment was the best way to describe how he was feeling. They’d barely discussed anything and what little they had Vergil was scared about Dante knowing. Would he get in trouble if Dante found out what he wanted to do? Nero couldn’t shake the feeling that Vergil wasn’t saying everything. There had to be more to it than simply opening a gate. 

  


Once he was within talking distance, Dante spoke, “I know you like hanging out with Nero, but we’ve got to go Vergil. We’ll reschedule your playdate for another time.”

  


If he wasn’t thoroughly exhausted from the day’s events, Nero would have felt more irritated at the idea that he would have something as childish as a playdate. Incidentally, Vergil seemed to make up for it. Even from his profile, the heat of his glare was powerful.

  


Stopped a few steps from their little group Dante gestured at his brother.

  


“Come on. We’re going home.”

  


“ _No_.”

  


“That wasn’t a request.”

  


The next moment Dante was right next to Vergil grabbing the kid’s bicep in one hand. Both of them turned to go towards the gate Dante had left through the first time. Vergil was dragged after him, not wanting to keep up. 

  


Nero felt a deep rage start inside him and moved after them. He yelled, “Hey! You don’t need to yank him around like that!”

  


Without stopping Dante raised a hand in acknowledgment. 

  


“This doesn’t concern you Nero. We’ll see you some other time.”

  


“The hell it does! You can’t just be an asshole to him because you want to!”

  


That got Dante to stop. Nero stopped a few paces away. He heard a pair of footsteps beside him stop as well. Dante didn’t turn around or let go of Vergil.

  


“Seeing as how he did something he knows he wasn’t supposed to: yes, I can be an asshole, as you lovingly said.”

  


The anger inside him fueled the words that would come out next, but stopped when he felt a hand touch his. The fire inside him simmered, but it was bursting to unleash itself. 

  


Kyrie could handle this. She was much better at people related matters. 

  


“Mr. Dante, I don’t know what Vergil did, but I’m sure he had a reason to do it.” A calm firmness colored Kyrie’s words, “You don’t have to accept it, but you should listen to his explanation. Everyone has a right to explain themselves.”

  


Nero would have never been able to say it as articulated as her. It was exactly what he had been thinking, but it would not have come out that nicely. 

  


They all waited as water splashed onto the cracked pavement. 

  


Dante let go of Vergil and they turned to face off against each other. Hands on his hips, the man in red had a gleam in his eye.

  


“Alright. Let’s hear it.”

  


Silence was his answer. Dante gave a small chuckle.

  


“Go on Vergil. We all know you want to say something smart.”

  


The kid looked down at the stone path. 

  


Nero felt his own apprehension at the silence. He saw another white haired kid who thought staying quiet was better than drawing attention to himself. He didn’t care what the kid said. He still needed to _try_ , “Defend yourself Vergil! Don’t just stand there!”

  


Eyes still locked on the stone he replied, “It doesn’t matter what I say. He won’t listen.”

  


Nero felt the rage ramping up again. He was about to let his rage speak, but Dante let out a sigh and beat him to it.

  


“Vergil. You barely have any rules to follow when we’re at home. Out of all of them, this is the one I told you that would be absolutely followed. So why did you break it?” 

  


“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

  


“Then why?”

  


“I,” Vergil finally looked up, “I really needed to talk to Nero.”

  


Nero tilted his head at the statement. As far as he knew, this was the first time they had met each other. Understanding hit him in the next moment. 

  


_He was lying_. 

  


Not entirely, Vergil definitely wanted to talk to him, but enough that he wouldn’t have to say anything else. Apparently, Dante came to the same conclusion. 

  


“That’s not a very good excuse.”

  


Silence stretched a bit more between all of them. 

  


Nero’s hand was nudged and he glanced to the side. Kyrie gave him a small nod. He gave a slight nod back. Nero straightened up and addressed the two brothers.

  


“I promised him I’d show him part of the city once I was done with,” he indicated over at the Savior remains, “everything else.” Nero put a hand on his hip, “I know he’s in trouble for whatever he did, but can I at least fulfill my promise? I’ve lived in this city my whole life; we won’t get lost.”

  


Dante looked uncertain at the prospect. 

  


Vergil chimed in, “I’ll follow everything Nero tells me to do and I won’t cause any trouble.”

  


Kyrie threw in her two cents, “You know how strong Nero is. He’ll be perfectly safe with him.”

  


God, he loved Kyrie. He owed her big time for going along with this. 

  


That was the last blow to Dante’s uncertainty. He gave Vergil a grave expression.

  


“You’re still in trouble for what you pulled. You get one hour until we meet back at the center of town before you get in even more trouble.” Vergil nodded at the information. “Now get out of here.”

  


Vergil moved away and back towards Nero. Kyrie brushed her hand over Nero’s as she moved past him. Once Vergil was near him again he didn’t say anything, but Nero could tell he was grateful. Nero gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look, “You ready?”

  


“Of course.”

  


Nero looked over to where Kyrie was in front of Dante. 

  


“Mr. Dante, you wouldn’t mind escorting me back to town. Would you?”

  


Dante gave a dramatic bow.

  


“Who am I to deny a lovely lady?”

  


He could hear her give a little giggle at the gesture. 

  


Dante started walking away and Kyrie followed. She turned around and gave Nero a thumbs up which he returned. Vergil and him watched them walk away. With Dante out of here they could figure out some other matters. Nero turned to address Vergil, but the kid wasn’t looking at him. There was a certain tension in his stance that hadn’t been there before. 

  


Rubble crunched under Vergil’s feet as he bolted after the two. Dante turned just in time for the hug that followed. Even from this far away Nero could tell the man was surprised. Hell, he was too. The man returned the hug and then they both went their separate ways. 

  


When Vergil walked back, his eyes were clear. A dead set determination that hadn’t been there before. With just the two of them, they would find this weird portal Vergil was looking for. He couldn’t get it open without his help, so he was going to get some answers from the kid before this whole thing was over. 

  


\------------------------------------------

  


The questions Nero asked were about what he expected. There were three in total. 

  


_What rule did you break?_

  


It was an easy answer. One that Dante had suddenly given him a couple months before without any prior notice. He was not allowed to visit Fortuna. 

  


The new rule had caused a big fight between Dante and him. Unsurprisingly, Dante never gave him the reason why he couldn’t go and that pissed him off more than anything else. For all of the things Vergil was unsure about, he knew he wanted to visit Fortuna one day. He had finally relented and accepted it, but they both knew he wasn't going to let it go. There was going to be some arguments in the future on the topic. 

  


When Nero pressed, Vergil just affirmed he hadn’t meant to come here. 

  


It was true to a certain extent. 

  


All he knew was that he had just come back to the shop after having spent the night at Lady and Trish’s home. He’d been doing his usual checking the shop over and going through the mail when the yamato had started screaming for his attention. As his hand wrapped around the hilt he felt the immense urge to open a portal to somewhere. He didn’t know where it would lead, but he trusted the sword. The blade would take him where he was meant to be. 

  


The next question: _were they related?_

  


Vergil said that he didn’t know. 

  


Nero’s demonic aura. The yamato’s acceptance. 

  


Telling him would have been the right thing to do. The words he wanted to say got caught in his throat. Vergil wouldn’t see him again and Dante would have to deal with the results of his actions. So the words stayed inside. If he wanted the truth he said, he’d have to ask Dante. 

  


It was a fool’s errand, but that was the best he could give. 

  


The last question: _where was he opening a portal to?_

  


Vergil did his best to explain. By opening a portal with Nero’s yamato and then opening another one within the portal with his own sword he could get where he needed. 

  


Nero tried to get more of an answer out of him. He tried his best to keep calm, but the more he tried to convince Nero to help him the more he stonewalled him. Losing his cool, he practically begged Nero to help him. He couldn’t tell him why. No one would believe him. 

  


Sleep had not come easily the past six months.

  


He had even convinced Dante to let him stay up every other night. 

  


They were half-demons; they didn’t need to sleep every night like humans even if Dante had insisted on it. He was lucky he had complied. Bearing witness to what that first nightmare did to him had worked to his advantage. 

  


The following few days after that first nightmare Vergil avoided sleep. By the fifth day he was shaky, could barely concentrate, and short in his responses. Dante had sat him down and told him he had to go to bed. 

  


Vergil didn’t say it out loud, but he was terrified. He didn’t want to know what happened next in those memories. 

  


Dante had sat on the ground and put his back against the couch in the main room. Vergil slept for the first time since the nightmare on that couch. 

  


_Go to sleep, Verge. I’ll be right here when you wake up_. 

  


Those memories still came. 

  


After that first incident, those memories echoed that deep, gravelly voice.

  


**Mundus**.

  


In those dreams, Vergil became that husk.

  


His thoughts.

  


His emotions.

  


His amulet.

  


Everything was taken away.

  


There was nothing, but the urge to serve Him. 

  


It had bled into his waking life. Each time he awoke it became a little more difficult to come back into his own body. To recognize that he had his own thoughts. 

  


Nothing had scared him more than not remembering his own name. The one that kept replacing it was the one in those memories. 

  


Nelo Angelo. 

  


His name always eventually came to him, but the fear that he had completely forgotten it was always present when it happened.

  


Any opportunity he tried to learn more about Dante’s twin brother resulted in a dead end. There was nothing he could find on the man and Dante wouldn’t tell him anything. Seeing the yamato here confirmed what Vergil didn’t want to believe. 

  


Those memories would end in death. He didn’t want to see it. 

  


He didn’t want to know how those dreams ended. 

  


Nero wouldn’t understand. 

  


Bordering on him being hysterical, Nero finally did relent. 

  


Perhaps it was the desperation in his voice or Nero pitied him. He didn’t care. If there was even a slight chance that he could avoid seeing those memories he would do whatever it took. 

  


The sword in his hand took him to the place where their portals would cut through to his destination. 

  


The old architecture of the city reflected itself in the underground facility. Through the only entrance in the wide, spacious room only one path lead straight to the middle of it. Lit torches arose from the abyss on either side of the path leading to the end where it spread into a circle. An indent on the ground in the middle of the circle gave the impression that a sword was supposed to be there. Paying it no mind, both of them stood at the very end of the path. 

  


Vergil instructed Nero on the proper way to open the portal. He didn’t worry on whether the man could do it. The veil between the human realm and the demon realm in the room was extremely thin. Anyone could open a portal here. 

  


With an unsure expression, Nero gripped the yamato and opened the portal in two clean slices. One vertical, one horizontal. The rip of space as it was torn open echoed off the emptiness of the room. 

  


The stench of rotting flesh and rising screeches started to float through. 

  


They were cut off by Vergil’s blade as it cut into the portal itself. The once dark blue edges of the portal changed into a vibrant light blue. The inside of the portal was still dark, but when he squinted he could see a light at the far end of it. 

  


“You’re not coming back.”

  


Vergil stopped at the opening of the portal. He wrapped coolness around his heart. 

  


“No.”

  


“I’m going to have to deal with your pissed off brother.”

  


A chilling sword went through his heart. A woman with short black hair and mismatched eyes alongside a tall blonde haired woman came to mind. Another sword rammed through his heart. 

  


“I know.” 

  


He didn’t want to turn around. There were too many conflicting emotions going on inside him. He heard Nero shift his feet a ways behind him. 

  


“Do you want me to tell him anything? He’s going to want answers.”

  


There were too many things he wanted to tell Dante. He wished they spent more time together. He wished they’d been more open with each other. He wished that he had told him how much he meant to him. He wished they’d said they loved each other more often. 

  


None of those thoughts would leave his lips though. 

  


Vergil stood there listening to the crackle and otherworldly noises coming from the portal. His head snapped up with clarity. He reached into the inside pocket of his coat. 

  


In both hands he looked down at a worn brown book. The golden V on the front slightly glimmering from the light of the portal. His grip on the book tightened. 

  


Vergil turned his back to the portal and walked back to Nero. He presented the book in one hand to him. 

  


The man looked down at it curiously. He reached out to take it.

  


“A book?”

  


Vergil didn’t let go. Tearing his eyes from it, he looked up at Nero.

  


“Give this to Dante. He’ll understand.”

  


Vergil released his grip and Nero held it up to examine. 

  


“I can do that.” He lowered the book, “Anything else?”

  


Vergil could feel the dread in his stomach. It mixed with a smaller feeling, just behind it. 

  


_Hope_. 

  


Dante and his twin had never been able to get along. But they had been alive. Both of them. 

  


Was his twin still out there? Was Dante alive? 

  


As far as he was concerned, it was true. He’d find his twin brother. 

  


Vergil shook his head.

  


Nero nodded towards the portal, “You should probably get going then. I don’t want to keep that thing open too long.”

  


Vergil turned to leave and stopped halfway. He looked at Nero with a cool expression, “Dante keeps many secrets. Don’t be surprised if he keeps something from you.”

  


Without another word, Vergil went through the portal. 

  


Nero couldn’t see him once he was inside it, but he knew he had to wait to make sure he was through. Eventually, the light blue of the portal returned to the dark blue it was before and the stench and screams started up again. 

  


Vergil had closed the portal on his side. 

  


Nero followed through in the same motions as before. The portal closed and the silence left behind was deafening. He crouched down where he was and took a few breathes. He looked at the book in his hand. A headache was starting to form at the back of his skull. Thinking about talking to Dante was already making him more tired.

  


Nero ran a hand through his hair. He could take a little break before he had go. A few minutes was all he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, it hurts to lose what you treasure.  
> You all knew that he couldn’t stay.
> 
> I hope y’all are looking forward to the last chapter. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave any questions or comments. Regular comments are always appreciated too.


	7. To Love Without Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this is the official end of the 7 chapters I had planned. I will be posting a bonus chapter, but I really like how I ended this here.
> 
>   
> Thank you for taking the time to read this story. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Returning from the Underworld had been relatively easy. Three months had passed since Dante and himself had first descended to clear the Qliphoth roots. Their return was surprisingly uneventful. With the exception of Nero punching both of them for, as he said, “Pay back, bitch.” 

  


Dante went back to managing his shop with Vergil as one of its employees. 

  


A free lancing devil hunter would have been the more correct term, but leave it to his brother to use something that would annoy him. Jobs still came in as if no time had passed. There were always demons that needed to be killed. 

  


Interacting with everyone had been… difficult.

  


Lady and Trish had been the first to greet them on their return. 

  


Trish was easy to talk with and it felt as if he was catching up with an old friend. Though he didn’t fail to notice the sad look in her eyes every now and then. It was similar, but different from those memories. 

  


Lady… Their relationship was complicated. She acted as if she didn’t much care for him, but she still asked him how he was whenever she visited.

  


Nero was the most difficult. The blame did not rest solely on his son’s shoulders. 

  


Their conversations were awkward when they were left alone together. In those moments, his mind scrambled to think of something to talk about. The first few times he had left the burden of conversation on Nero because he had been too indecisive. It wasn’t something Vergil was proud of, but he had improved since then. 

  


Now they could be in the same room together without thick tension hanging in the air. Nero had even taken to asking if he wanted to join him on some jobs, which he always accepted. 

  


Not that his son needed the help, but there was still a small part of him that lit up at the prospect of Nero wanting to spend more time with him. 

  


Determined to better understand his son was another part of his life now. Along with figuring out what he wanted to do with the rest of it. 

  


The future no longer held an overbearing grip on him. It was his to shape. 

  


The sun beat down relentlessly on the van. Nero sat in the shade casted by the car as he went about wiping down and inspecting the pieces of his gun. The muffled sound of Nico talking inside to herself was paired with the sound of metal being worked on. 

  


Nero’s sword had been acting up on their previous job with none of its usual red flames roaring throughout the battle field. Fixing it before moving to the next job had been the most logical step. 

  


With nothing else to do but wait, Vergil laid on top of the van with a familiar golden book. The sun’s rays felt pleasantly warm against his skin. Despite not sharing Nico’s or Nero’s sentiment on how hot it was, he still shed his coat and left it inside the van. 

  


A flip of the page brought him to another poem he knew by heart and in the margins was another that was just as familiar. 

  


His thumb brushed over the handwriting. 

  


Those memories of that child had first appeared in his dreams at his weakest. Crumbling away as he used what little demonic power he had to keep himself from dying. 

  


The first dreams that came to him were ones he hadn’t had since he was much younger. They involved happier memories at his old childhood home and lonelier ones of being on his own. 

  


All familiar memories.

  


Then they deviated from what he expected to see. His brother was much older and looking after him. There were no nights hiding in terror from a stronger demon with the yamato clutched tightly in his small hands. 

  


When they started he believed they were nothing but his own desperate, self-created delusions. Then one day he had a dream where that child walked through a portal and disappeared. 

  


The nightmares returned after that last dream. The resentment inside him grew as the terrors persisted. 

  


No longer were his dreams something he could look forward to. 

  


Imagine his surprise when V picked up the same book he held now and saw the poems that child had written inside it. That month as V had made him realize many misconceptions he had about himself. 

  


The happier parts of that child’s memories no longer stuck out as the only testament to the life he lived. The spikes of anger at seemingly nothing, biting retorts at innocent remarks, frustration at the lack of progress in his training. How odd it was to see his own behaviors from when he was younger mirrored back to him. 

  


Another turn of the page. 

  


Nero cursed. 

  


Vergil looked down from his perch. He couldn’t exactly see what Nero was doing, but from the way he was hunched over and spitting curses underneath his breath he was getting frustrated. His eyes flickered between the page and down to Nero’s back.

  


“Nero.”

  


“Yeah?” Nero replied with a strained voice.

  


“Do you have a favorite?” 

  


“A favorite what?”

  


“From this book.”

  


Nero looked over his shoulder and back up at him. He narrowed his eyes. After a moment of thought he spoke, “I’d have to look at the pages, but there were a few I liked.”

  


Vergil reached down to hand over the book. Nero wiped his hands on a spare rag and met him half way to take it. The sounds from inside the van mixed together with the turning of pages. Vergil crossed his arms and rested his head on top of them. The warmness on his back had his eyes feeling heavy. He heard Nero call his name. 

  


Opening his eyes he looked down. Nero was offering him the book again. He grabbed it, keeping his thumb in the place where Nero had bookmarked it. 

  


“’The Garden of Love’ and the ‘Proverbs of Hell’ were pretty good. The two on that page though,” he nodded at the book, “they were my favorites.”

  


Nero went back to work. Vergil opened the bookmarked page.

  


‘The Human Abstract.’ An interesting choice. 

  


The margins held another poem. It was hand written. 

  


‘The Approaching Storm.’ 

  


Memories of steady hands holding the book in place and carefully copying the poem from his notebook onto the page surfaced as he read through it. A small half-grin spread across his face at the nearly palpable pride the child had felt for this poem. He had been especially proud of how it turned out. He let some of that fondness into his voice.

  


“He would be happy to hear that.”

  


“Good thing I’m telling you then. It totally felt like something V would write.”

  


“V didn’t write this.”

  


“Huh?”

  


Nero stopped what he was doing to look at him. 

  


“You’ve met him before,” Vergil broke eye contact and returned to his pages, “the child you helped escape this world. He wrote it.”

  


There were more of that child’s poems in here. All labors of hard work and passion. Some of them had even become his favorites as well. There was another on the same page as ‘Infant Joy’ that had steadily grown on him. 

  


A hand clamped around his wrist. 

  


Vergil buried his instinct to growl at the sudden contact. Humans didn’t growl at each other. 

  


Nero was on his feet, an intense look in his eyes as he held his wrist. 

  


“I swear to god Vergil if you two are the same person I’m gonna lose it.”

  


Vergil scrunched his eyebrows at the outburst. He shook his head.

  


“Then how the hell do you know he wrote it?”

  


Hmm. He didn’t think Nero would accept him saying that he just had that knowledge. Being a bit truthful was likely the best course. 

  


“His memories are accessible to me.”

  


“What the fuck does that mean?”

  


A drop of confusion entered his mind. He thought he was being fairly clear. He reformulated his thoughts into what he hoped was a more coherent answer.

  


“While we are not the same person, I retained his memories from when he lived in this world.” 

  


Nero let go of his wrist and gave him a strange look. It looked like he was about to say something, but then he shook his head.

  


“Forget it. I’m not going to even ask how that works. Weirder stuff has happened with you so I’ll just assume you’re right.”

  


“Y’all talking about weird stuff out here?”

  


Nico was in the open doorway of the van with Nero’s sword in her arms. Nero walked over and took the sword from her. Walking a little ways away, he drove the sword into the ground with one hand on the grip. His voice drifted over clearly despite him facing away from them, “You want to reveal you’re secretly a part of Vergil too? Might as well keep adding to the weird pile.” 

  


Nico only laughed in response. The roar of the sword followed as flames burst out of its engine component. Vergil felt the need to correct him, but Nico’s voice was louder than his thoughts. 

  


“He wishes my brilliant mind was a part of him. Maybe it’s the other way around and he’s a part of me.” She leaned against the outside of the van. The flick of a lighter being struck came from below. Vergil moved further down from where she was standing underneath him. Smoke curled into the air and the hint of a smile filtered into her voice.

  


“Wouldn’t that be a damn plot twist?”

  


“It certainly wouldn’t be expected,” Vergil answered and felt his own smile return. 

  


Vergil sat up so his legs were hanging over the side of the van. Nero had walked over and proceeded to assemble his gun together again. With his sword ready they could move on to the next job for the day. The gun snapped back into its final place and Vergil jumped down to the ground. He followed Nico’s lead inside with Nero right behind him. 

  


Nico, who was already sitting in the driver’s seat, called out, “Come on son! We’ve got work to do!” 

  


Vergil sat in his place on the side couch and as he passed the book to his son walking past he saw the visible exasperation on Nero’s face. The expression remained as Nero made his way to the passenger seat. 

  


“Don’t.”

  


“Don’t what? Son, we’ve got a lot of work to do today and you’re the one dragging your feet.”

  


“STOP.”

  


“Now you’re just being darn rude, son.”

  


“Would you shut up?!”

  


“Nero,” he turned back in his seat at the front, “You really shouldn’t speak to your father like that.”

  


Nico’s sharp laughs bounced off the van’s small space. Nero gave him a pointed look and Vergil fought to keep the grin off his face. 

  


“Do NOT encourage her.”

  


“Nah, V gets it. Listen to your Dad, Nero!”

  


The bickering between the two continued all the way to their next destination. It was a brash conversation, but he had grown used it. They were quite normal. 

  


The demons at their next stop were easy. Nothing that one demon hunter couldn’t take care of, but with two it was done in record time. Vergil was prepared to walk back to the van when Nero stopped him. The look on his face was pensive. 

  


“You should talk to Dante about him.”

  


Vergil tilted his head at the statement. Nero scratched at his chin and looked away. 

  


“The other Vergil I mean. He just- He-,” he sighed and brought his eyes back to him, “You know what he had me do, right?”

  


Vergil nodded. The image of that golden book held tightly in that child’s hands. The strength it took to let it go. 

  


“You gave Dante that book. The same one I gave you.”

  


“Right and I thought Dante was going to be mad about it when I gave it to him, but he wasn’t. He didn’t even yell at me.”

  


“Surely he was upset.”

  


“That’s what I thought too.” He let out another sigh, “Look: I don’t know if I’m right because this happened a long time ago and I didn’t know Dante that well then, but I think he somehow expected it.”

  


_Expected it?_ There was no possibility that Dante could have foreseen that child leaving. 

  


“Why do you say that?”

  


“Like I said: I don’t know if I’m right about it. You said you have that kids’ memories so I thought maybe you would know if something had happened to make Dante think he would run away or that he didn’t like him.” 

  


Vergil’s mind swirled at the information. How could Dante think that child didn’t like him? That book was not something either of them would give away on a whim. They had both entrusted it at different times with Nero. The boy had given it to his brother as a way of thanks, regret, and all of the words he couldn’t say to his face. Why would he-

  


Snapping brought him out of his thoughts. 

  


“It’s just a suggestion. Don’t take it too seriously.”

  


“Right.”

  


The van ride did little to calm his thoughts. Dante should have held on to that book, but it had been in that house when he split his demon and human half from each other. The thought refused to leave him alone.

  


\---------------------------------

  


The front door of the Devil May Cry swung open with Vergil entering the shops threshold. The sound of the van driving away out front was cut off by the closing of the door. The room was brightly lit with the ceiling fan slightly creaking as it turned overhead. At the desk near the stairs was his brother. He had his feet kicked up on top of the desk and the chair balancing on its back two legs. A magazine covered his face. 

  


Vergil walked over and lifted the magazine with one hand. Blue eyes locked with his and greeted him with a flash of teeth. 

  


“Well if isn’t my favorite employee.”

  


“Have you moved since I left?”

  


“Nope.”

  


Dante made a pathetic sound as the magazine dropped back on to his face. His speech was slightly muffled as he continued. 

  


“So how’d it go? You guys have fun?” 

  


“Yes. It was pleasant. Nero wants to know if you’ll come on the next one.”

  


“Oh, hell yeah. Wouldn’t want to miss out on a big family outing.”

  


That was the end of their usual conversation. Vergil would go about his own business and Dante would likely lay around the rest of the day if he didn’t have anything else planned. 

  


Nero’s words dug into his thoughts. 

  


The easiest way to know would be to ask, but he didn’t know how. Vergil had never planned to bring up that child to anyone. There was simply no need to mention him. 

  


Vergil turned around and leaned back against the desk with his hands gripping the edges of the surface. He wanted an answer and there was no one else who could ask. He tasted blood from where he bit the inside of his cheek too hard. The words tried to scramble back inside, but he dragged them out into the world. 

  


“He didn’t want to leave.”

  


“Aw, he’s barely known you a year and he’s already getting attached. Don’t worry, you’ll see Nero again soon.”

  


“I’m not talking about Nero.”

  


Vergil kept his eyes locked on the wall across from him. Dante was just outside of his field of vision. 

  


“That child.”

  


“A kid? Vergil, what’re you talking about?”

  


“Your little brother.”

  


The wood had little give as he gripped the underside of the desk. Something fell to the floor on his left. Dante’s voice was clear.

  


“Last I checked I only have you as my brother. Unless Mom and Dad had some secret kids I didn’t know about.”

  


“He used to live here.”

  


“Don’t know what you’re talking about bro. I’ve been the only one living here since I bought the place.” Vergil fought to contain the snarl he felt rising in his chest. “Unless you want to count the times that Trish and Lady stayed over. They didn’t pay rent though so I don’t think that really counts.”

  


The wood was going to crack if he gripped it any harder. So he was going to treat that child like he did him. Refusing to believe he ever existed. Denying that boy had been easy when they were not on equal footing. The difference now was that Vergil knew for a fact that child had lived. 

  


The venom that came from his mouth was undiluted, “ _It’s best that he’s no longer here_.”

  


The air in Dante’s direction behind him dropped a couple degrees. 

  


Good. Give some reaction that he cared.

  


“ _That child didn’t deserve to be in this world_.”

  


A blur of red flashed in front of him and hands grabbed the front of his coat. Their grip was strong as he was pulled forward. Dante’s face was clouded with an emotion he’d seen him wear only once. 

  


When V had mentioned his name. 

  


The threat of violence dripped off Dante’s words, “ **Watch your mouth**.”

  


“Now you want to speak of him? How convenient.”

  


The aura around Dante darkened even further. The hands tightly holding his coat trembled. Vergil didn’t give him time to speak. He wanted an answer. 

  


“Did you love him?”

  


In a split second that aura around Dante disappeared. Confusion slipped across his face.

  


“What?”

  


“You heard me. Did you love him?”

  


That confusion was replaced with a nonchalant grin that didn’t reach his eyes. 

  


“I don’t think you have any business asking that kind of question.”

  


“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  


“And don’t make me throw you out of this building.”

  


Vergil almost rose to that challenge, but threw the thought away. Dante would not distract him.

  


“You hated him then.”

  


“ **Hey**.”

  


“Then speak, Dante. Was he a burden?”

  


Dante finally released his hold on his jacket. The threat of violence still hung in the air as he raised his arms in a shrug.

  


“Course not. He was a little troublemaker, but he could be sweet when he wanted to be.”

  


“So you disliked him.”

  


“That’s not what I said.”

  


“It was implied.”

  


“Listen: he was a hand full. But,” Dante looked away from him, “he was a good kid. He just didn’t need his big brother anymore.”

  


Indignation rose within him at that last statement. 

  


“ _Shut up_. That child loved you wholeheartedly. Do **not** sully his memory.” 

  


“Got another secret you want to share, Vergil?” Dante eyes came back to Vergil’s and his posture was slouched forward in defeat. “I can’t take any more surprises.”

  


Nero’s earlier statement came to mind. Vergil shook his head. He’d rather there be no misconceptions. 

  


“We are not the same person.” He paused, “He had a much happier childhood.”

  


The silence stretched on between them. 

  


Satisfied with his answer, Vergil was ready to move on from the topic and go on with his day. Though something stopped him from leaving. Perhaps it was the way Dante was looking at the ground with his arms crossed or maybe part of him wanted to comfort his brother. Unease clouded his mind as he tried to think of what would be the most appropriate thing to say. 

  


Dante’s voice was hollow, “How did you know about him?”

  


“I have his memories. Most of them are from when he lived here.”

  


“How?”

  


“They came through my dreams. At first I did not think they were anything else but my imagination.”

  


“Is that why he had those nightmares?”

  


“Yes.”

  


Guilt sat heavy in his chest. The ugly ghosts of his past had sought to ruin another because one had not been enough. 

  


The memories of when that child was older and the turmoil that would follow when he would wake. The familiar blank feeling that took sometimes hours to dissipate. Struggling to remember his true name when only the wrong one would come to mind. It was impossible to tell how much that child had seen, but that didn’t matter. Even a little was too much. 

  


Vergil stifled a sigh and addressed Dante.

  


“Stop this self-pity. His happiest memories were the times he spent with you in this shop. He truly cared for you. That’s at least one aspect we had in common.”

  


Dante eyes landed on him with a twinkle of mischief, “What was that?”

  


Vergil didn’t answer. 

  


“Huh? You care about me? You worry about me?”

  


“I didn’t say that.”

  


“I heard it, Vergil! You can’t take it back!”

  


“Believe what you want.”

  


His brother nearly knocked him over with the force Dante threw himself at him. The only thing stopping his fall were the arms that wrapped around him. Dante’s head was buried in his shoulder. The warmth in his chest left him momentarily stunned. Shaking off the shock at the unexpected feeling, it only spread further as he returned the hug. 

  


When he first came to this shop it had been strange to already know the layout despite never personally having step foot in it. The desk was still in the same place as it had always been. The floorboards still squeaked in the same spots. Even his brother’s habits didn’t change. 

  


Vergil didn’t miss the odd look Lady had given him when they had been talking about a certain demon he’d never seen before that had appeared in the area again. He’d brought up what little he knew from the child’s memories of fighting one. She’d asked him if he’d ever fought that type of demon before and he denied it. Or when Dante had looked completely dumbfounded when he woke up on the couch with a blanket he didn’t fall asleep with. 

  


Trish… he would speak with her about it. Maybe she would have more insight into what had transpired. Perhaps Lady too. 

  


Vergil tightened his arms involuntarily. Dante returned the gesture. There was never a place that he had called home. Not since he was a child. That boy though… this shop had been his home. It had kept him safe and he had been loved. 

  


Maybe one day he would call this place his home too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels great to have this whole thing finished. I’m very proud with how it turned out.
> 
> A theme I wanted to really focus in on was love and how everyone in this fic felt about it/expressed it. There were these specific songs I ended up associating with characters while writing this whole thing. They came from the album Love + Fear by MARINA. These were the songs if anyone is interested in knowing:
> 
> Nero – End of the Earth  
> Dante – Believe in Love  
> Lady – Handmade Heaven  
> Trish – Life is Strange  
> Vergil – Soft to be Strong 
> 
> Fun fact – Nero and Lady are the only ones with songs from the Love side of the album. Everyone else’s is from the Fear side. 
> 
> Feel free to leave any comments or questions. If you’re interested in more of the lore/world building, I will be putting it in the notes of the bonus chapter. Again, thank you for taking the time to read my work.


End file.
